


Power is the Vessel

by Palace_of_Ice



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Drama & Romance, Gay Male Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palace_of_Ice/pseuds/Palace_of_Ice
Summary: Nikola searches for his long lost family and discovers he has a young cousin in Serbia.  The young man (OC) falls in lust and love with the de-vamped inventor.  This story is mostly an excuse to throw in every cool Serbian cultural thing I could think of, while still being a pretty hot gay romance.  Warnings: Gay sex, flashback of attempted non-consensual sex, some mention of genocide and war, homophobic slurs/violence.
Relationships: Nikola Tesla/Helen Magnus, Nikola Tesla/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Comment: Hi guys, a few more warnings and disclaimers.  
> This is a gay romance that will become VERY adult at a certain point. There is very, very mild incest. (According to some studies, attraction between two people is actually maximized when people are third or fourth cousins. Historically, it’s likely that most couples were related to at least that degree.) There’s discussion and use of assisted reproduction technology, resulting in the eventual formation of a same-sex parented family. There’s homophobic violence that is somewhat intense. There’s also some Christianity and Atheism.  
> Besides that, for historical accuracy, please be aware that although I found some internet rumors that claim that some of Tesla’s relatives were killed during the various wars in the Balkans, but it’s not clear to me if it is true or just political accusations between enemy groups that are holding a grudge. William Terbo, Tesla’s last relative, is on record saying that Tesla’s family simply had very few children, and that this explains the lack of relatives and descendants. Hopefully, in reality that is the case...  
> Also, a heads up. For this story I have reversed the order of events from the series. Nikola works for SCIU while still a vampire. He then later has his mishap with the devamper. Carry on to the fun!

...

“Helen...” She woke to the startling sight of Nikola standing over her bed, dressed to the nines, entirely in black. “Could I borrow the jet in the morning?” he asked softly, with a sad frown. “My God, Nikola. How did you get in here?” She sat up, slightly alarmed at his bizarre behavior. “And where did you get that suit? It’s better than what you’ve been wearing lately, but still...” She sniffed quietly, trying not to show her enjoyment of the familiar scent of that lovely cologne he’d been wearing since 1920-something.

“Hugo Boss.” He muttered then continued, “I magnetically opened the lock. It’s an emergency.” “It must be if you’re wearing something off the rack-” “Helen, please, I need-” He choked up for a moment and she became alarmed. “What is it?” she whispered as she got out of bed and took his hand in hers. He looked up into her eyes with a defeated air, “Bill Terbo died.”

…

The funeral home was not buying Nikola’s story of being a long-lost relative from Serbia. Besides the fact that William ‘Bill’ Terbo was well known as the last living relative of Nikola Tesla, she thought that it might have something to do with the slight New York accent Nikola’s Serbian had developed over the years. When a burly man came out and started cussing him out, Helen grabbed Nikola’s arm and started physically pulling him away from what was shaping up into a street fight. “Come on Nikola! You’re not going to convince them by telling them to suck your dick.” “That fucking asshole! Do you know what he said to me?!” Helen just nodded and continued dragging him down the street. “Yeah, something like, eat shit and fuck your...blood?” she muttered bemusedly. She opened the door to the rental car and shoved him headfirst into it.

He slumped in the seat looking defeated. “Yeah, he said I’m a bullshitter and cursed my bloodline. Is that supposed to be ironic or what...” The tall dark-haired man put his face in his hands. “I just wanted to see him. Why didn’t I go see him before? The last time I saw him he was a little boy.” Helen started up the car and was about to leave when Nikola abruptly looked up and insisted, “No, let’s stay and watch them go.” She sighed exasperated, “Nikola, there’s no one there who’s related to you anymore. They’re just his wife’s family, you know that.” The open look of distress in his eyes was uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I-I’m alone now.” Helen scoffed, “Don’t be dramatic. You’ve never cared about your relatives. And besides, you have me don’t you?”

Nikola swallowed and visibly composed himself, that momentary softness gliding smoothly behind his usual cool, polished exterior. She thought she could almost see the gears turning behind his icy blue eyes. “Do I?” he asked softly, almost to himself, then pasted on a false grin. “Do I now?” he said teasingly. “Is that a proposal? I must say, I’ve waited so long-” Helen scoffed and hit the accelerator. “In your dreams, Nikola.”

...

After his failed attempt to attend his last living relative’s funeral, Nikola seemed even more depressed than after he lost his vampirism. Helen and her staff were shocked to see him leave his room after noon, looking unrecognizably disheveled in a wrinkled undershirt and sweatpants. After several days of the same routine, Helen finally decided to investigate and followed him to the kitchen.

“Nikola, how many of those have you had?” she asked, taking away his half full wine glass. “Hmm? Oh, that, it’s, I dunno...” he muttered drunkenly, then reached for his drink. She held it away from him, took a sip then almost spat it out. “What is this?!” she sputtered after choking it down. He gestured idly toward the large bottle, a jug really, sitting on the counter, not even bothering to answer. She dumped the cheap red liquid down the drain. “Is this cooking wine?” “Ss-called Carlo Rossi, I think. Come on Helen, give me back my glass.”

Helen put the glass down then took him by the hands. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked softly, pulling him back to face her when he tried to turn away and escape. “Nothin’...nothin’ at all.” he slurred. “Just tryin’ to have some fun, before I, before...I figure out how to revamp myself is all.” He smiled at her crookedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. A suspicion bloomed in her mind, one she didn’t like at all. “Nikola...” she drew it out, a warning in her tone. “What are you planning?” He scoffed and tossed his head, yanking his hands out of hers. “You should help me! How long have I got left anyhow? As a mortal-” he spat the word out venomously, “who will age, go senile and die!”

She tried to placate him, “I’ll help you if you get sick-” “Aging is a disease and you already know the cure!” he yelled, clenching his fist. She narrowed her eyes at the implied threat, despite the realization that she’d never seen him angry while drunk before and couldn’t predict what he might do. “I won’t help you experiment on yourself. You remember the tests, the failures we had when we first developed the serum. How many rats died until we got it right? Eighty percent? Ninety?” “I don’t care!” She slammed her fist down on the counter, “Well, I DO! I care. I care a lot.” Angry tears filled her eyes, as she tried to get her oldest friend to give up this folly. “Don’t, don’t destroy what you’ve got, just to try and get back what you had.”

The sight of her impatiently brushing away tears at the thought of him dying took the wind out of his sails. He slumped in defeat then tentatively reached for her. “Helen, please. Don’t cry.” She let him wrap his skinny arms around her shoulders but stood stiffly in his awkward embrace as he said, “I’m sorry. I just, I feel like such an idiot with what’s happened, and I-I don’t want to die.” She pulled away from him to look him in the eye. “Have you been thinking a lot about dying?” The emptiness she saw steal across his face chilled her to the bone. “No.” He withdrew and started to leave the room until she called out to him. “Don’t leave me. Nikola, please. I-I-” She stumbled on her words, wishing she could say those three little words, but fear held her back. Nikola looked over his shoulder at her, “I know,” he said softly, then left.

…

Nikola peered through the eyepiece of the microscope. The cells were less numerous than they should be and there were mutations, doubled tails or heads, crooked and swimming poorly. This was the third sample he had taken, hoping against hope that somehow the first two were atypical. He was coming to the conclusion that his rudimentary knowledge of microbiology wasn’t going to be enough to make a definitive statement. He would need to have Helen look at it to receive a prognosis.

…

Helen was blunt as usual. “You’re infertile.” Nikola clenched his jaw. “What about assisted reproduction? Would that make it possible?” The brunette shook her head with a frown. “I’m surprised you’re even investigating reproducing. You’ve never expressed any desire for children before.” He persisted, “Are you sure it’s impossible? Can you tell me the probability of success?” Helen sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “With deformed morphology this severe, it’s less than 5%. I can tell you that much. And with such a low count, I’m not seeing any normal appearing sperm that have good mobility. Who would you even reproduce with?”

Nikola was silent for a long moment, then said simply, “I was hoping you would-” Helen shook her head interjecting, “What on earth?! That’s a big assumption.” Nikola actually blushed. “I thought...I mean, can you still...?” She waved the question away annoyed, “Yes, but I...I can’t go through that again. And, well, we’re not even lovers right now, much less-” Nikola cut her off quickly, “I would marry you. I want to. You're my family Helen. Please, please marry me.” Helen was flabbergasted at her friend’s open desperation. “You’ve lost your mind. I don’t want to get married. You’re so far off the mark-” He advanced on her and grabbed her by the shoulders talking over her, “No, don’t, please, just think about it!” She brought her hands up abruptly, broke his grip and shoved him away. “Stop it! I don’t want to marry you and I certainly don’t want to have children with you!”

An unexpected crashing sound caused them to freeze and look over to find Will standing in the doorway, the clipboard he had been carrying lying in a mess at his feet. “Shit! I’m sorry, let me get this and I’ll go.” He fumbled around awkwardly gathering the paperwork, until Magnus took pity on him. “Just leave it Will. I’ll get it. Go on.” He glanced up, his wide blue eyes darting nervously between his boss and Tesla who had turned his back on the scene. “Uh, okay...” He hesitated then asked, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Tesla rounded on him and screamed “Get out you nosy bastard!” Helen simply shut the door in her protégé’s face.

…

“I won’t have you drink yourself to death under my roof. If you want to spend every waking moment blitzed, you’ll have to do it somewhere else!” Nikola didn’t even bother to yell back at her, he just slumped on the couch and looked blearily up at the woman he loved. Filling his eyes with the sight of her, even when she was angry with him, was the only thing that was keeping him going at all. He’d given up on her changing her mind about him. She didn’t want to commit to him. Maybe she couldn’t forgive all the betrayals. Maybe he just couldn’t be trusted. He supposed that was it. Even when he put it all on the line, she rejected him, so what was the point in trying anymore? The only person he’d ever trusted, and here she was, kicking him out of her life. He nodded and got unsteadily to his feet.

“You’ll stop right? Please, just stop.” Nikola sighed, “Yeah, I’ll stop. The novelty was wearing off anyway.” His expression was like a locked gate as he told her, “I’m leaving soon. Just have to figure out where I’ll go, what I want to do with the rest of my existence.” Helen reached out toward him but pulled back when he shook his head and leaned away from her. She tried reaching out with her words instead. “I wish you wouldn’t go. We can work it out...Remember how it used to be in ninety-eight, the opening of the Secession building, how happy we were?” He seemed to steel himself and replied, “Memories of Vienna were enough for me before. It’s not anymore. I want more.” With that, he walked away.

…

Henry had acted surprised and sad when his mentor told him that he would be leaving again soon. “Are you sure you have to go? We were doing such great work on the containment unit for the telekinetic shrimp, and I’m sure that you and the Doc will work out the whole marriage thing.” Nikola tsked in disgust, “Let me guess. Will told you she turned me down?” Henry grinned nervously, “No, it was Kate. Was it supposed to be a secret?” The older man huffed angrily, “Doesn’t matter much now, does it! Will is as bad as my snaggle-toothed Aunts. Can’t keep anything to himself.”

Henry shook his head ruefully, “Yeah, I guess not. Kate’ll say she doesn’t want you to leave either, by the way. Says you’re the only fun one around here ‘cause you’re the only one that can beat her at Poker. When I tell her she’ll probably want to play one more going away game.” Nikola shrugged, “Sure, why not? Tell her I could use some easy money for my trip.” The shorter man laughed, “She’ll bring her A-game for sure! Tuesday as usual, right?” Nikola nodded then turned toward his workbench. “Let’s see what we can do to finish the containment unit. I don’t want to leave it with you.” Henry smiled then came over to take a look at the prototype.

…

“So, where’ll you go? Rome, Miami, back to Mexico?” Kate drawled as she added money to the pot. Nikola met her bet and called. He won again then dealt another hand with the quicksilver fingers of a professional gambler. “I don’t know. Away from North America-” “Can’t bear to share the continent with the Doc huh?” Nikola raised his voice and talked over Kate’s snarky remark, “-and I don’t feel like speaking Spanish, or Portuguese for that matter.” He glanced at Henry who asked for two cards. Kate took three and continued, “Maybe you should go back to Serbia-” “Croatia you mean.” This time she talked over him, “-and find your long lost whatever. Great-great grandniece or something.” Nikola took one card and placed a heavy bet. “They’re all dead. The ones in Serbia were the lucky ones and died natural deaths.” Kate and Henry stilled at his clipped tone. Henry asked softly, “And the unlucky ones?”

Tesla frowned grimly, “No one here knows about Jasenovac I suppose?” His audience glanced at each other and shook their heads. “Croatia had their very own version of the Nazi party during the war. Jasenovac was their concentration camp. It was so brutal it shocked the Nazis. They killed Serbs who wouldn’t convert to Catholicism with knives, hammers, axes...” He frowned and waved at Kate to hurry up and bet or fold. She matched his bet absently and asked, “Do you know if any escaped?” He shook his head, “There’s some records of my father’s side of the family, the Tesla’s descended from his brother. They were probably killed on arrival and buried in mass graves. Their wives, I don’t know. Probably they had the same fate.” Henry shook his head sadly, “God, I’m so sorry that happened. I never knew-” Nikola interrupted, “Go on and bet or fold. Don’t think about it anymore. It was a very long time ago.”

Henry glanced at his cards and folded. “I just can’t understand how no one could know about this. I mean, all anyone hears about is that nephew who became the ambassador to Yugoslavia-” “Sava was always an annoying kid and a typical slippery politician later on.” “-and the other one that invented car transmissions.” “Yes, Nikola Trbojevich. The hypoid gear was pretty clever, I have to give him credit. I guess I should be glad my big sister harassed me into helping him move to America. Bill outshone his father though. A rocket scientist! That I was proud of.” He smiled wistfully as he laid out his hand.

“Four of a kind. Kate?” She huffed and threw her cards down. “Two pair. That’s what I get for playing the master.” Nikola pulled the pot closer and started counting his money while Henry put away the cards. “You know,” Kate mused, “it’s possible some of them survived. You might go looking for them.” “And how would I do that? I’m lucky any records survived at all.” Nikola groused, putting his winnings in his wallet. “What about genetic testing? There might be some relatives that you don’t even know you’re related to. Orphans, bastards, who knows what. They could be looking for their family too.”

Nikola stopped short. He hadn’t considered that before. When he’d been a vampire of course such a thing would have been completely out of the question. God knows what the sequencers would have made of vampire DNA, but now that he was back to being human...Why not? “Huh, I never thought of that. I wonder if I could get away with sending it in for testing. The Cabal or SCIU might have some of my genetic material, but it would be different back then...” He trailed off, fascinated by the idea that he might just be able to find someone, anyone from the branch of the family that he’d given up as lost so long ago. Henry smiled widely, “Yes! You should do it. Maybe there’s a happy ending to the story out there, just waiting to be found.”

…


	2. Chapter 2

The report had nothing new to tell him about his ancestry. The only thing he found surprising is that there were no Turkish genetic markers at all. He’d always assumed his jet-black hair had to come from the nearly four century occupation of Serbia by the Ottoman Empire, but there wasn’t even a trace. He sighed as he mentally prepared himself for disappointment then opened the section about nearest relatives. As he was just about to tell himself that this was a fool’s errand, there it was. “Petar Marković, 19 years old, Niš. I can’t believe it...” According to the report Petar was related to him through the Y chromosome two generations back. “Uncle Josif’s line made it. Someone survived!”

Without any hesitation he created a profile based on the alias he was using, “Nick Mandic, 36, New York City...” then quickly wrote a message in Serbian,

_Dear Petar,_

_This is your cousin from America. I’m investigating part of the family that we lost track of during the war. Could you tell me anything about your grandparents, how they managed to survive, how they ended up in Niš? I’d really appreciate any information you have._

_About myself, we came to America at the turn of the last century and settled in New York. Happily, we were able to maintain some of our culture and language despite acculturating to the US. I’m the last of the family here and am looking to reconnect with my heritage. Thus, I’m planning a trip to the fatherland next month. Let me know if you would like to meet._

_Sincerely,_

_Nick Mandic_

He sat back in his chair, eyeing the message critically. The wording was probably rather old fashioned, but he supposed that fit in with his backstory of being a Serbian-American. If anyone questioned it, he’d just tell them his grandfather taught him the language. Satisfied with the impression he was making, he pressed send then sighed, “All that remains is to wait for a reply.”

…

The reply came the very next day. Nikola grinned with an excitement he hadn’t felt for years as he opened the email.

_Greetings from Serbia!_

_I was glad to get your message cousin. Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about my grandparents’ generation. My father never told me anything about them and recently passed away. I never knew my mother, so I feel bad I have nothing to report. I suppose there might be some records at the government office. That might be something to investigate when you come._

_I would like to get together if possible. Maybe we could meet at a café? I had no idea I had relatives in America and would like to hear about what life is like there. And of course, I can tell you about how things are here in Serbia. Niš is a very beautiful city and I can show you around._

_Best Wishes,_

_Petar_

Nikola jumped up and pulled his suitcase out of the closet. He unzipped it and pulled his US passport out of the pocket. “Nick Mandic, it looks like you’re going to Serbia out of NYC.”

…

Helen opened the door to Nikola’s suite only to find it abandoned. She had heard from her staff that Nikola had left but had to see for herself. Unlike the previous times he’d taken off he had taken all his possessions. There were no extra suits left hanging in the closet, no personal effects or toiletries. He hadn’t even left a note. The permanency of the move hit her hard in the gut. All alone in the impersonal space she slumped as she sat down heavily on the bed.

Kate had been the one to tell her about Nikola’s interest in finding some long-lost relatives back in Serbia. Helen thought the whole idea of submitting genetic information to anyone, much less a private company, utterly fool hardy, especially for a wanted man like Nikola. But given the level of existential angst he’d been going through, she supposed it wasn’t entirely out of character.

As she sat there in the quiet, she began to wonder if maybe she should have accepted his proposal. Not the children thing of course, but marriage...would it have been so bad? Given their absence from any public government database, it wasn’t like there would have been any legal aspect to the marriage. A commitment between the two of them, witnessed only by her staff. A declaration of love...She sighed and absently ran her fingers over the cold coverlet. “Nikola, I love you too,” she whispered to no one at all.

…

Nikola wished the fashion for gloves had never gone away as he awkwardly pushed the button for the 90th floor with his elbow. As the third tallest residential building in the world, at least 432 Park Avenue was sufficiently exclusive that it minimized the number of people touching those buttons. Nick Mandic had quite the little fortune with a healthy mix of patent royalties, dividend producing mutual funds and revenues from real estate. Even so, his three-bedroom luxury condo had cost him nearly one eighth of his total net worth. Helen would have called him a profligate sybarite, but what was the point of living in New York City otherwise? And besides, he figured passing on buying a penthouse was self-restraint enough.

The elevator door opened into a small entryway. Sometimes he resented not having the whole floor to himself, but he tried to remember the sacrifice was necessary to make some sort of attempt to keep a low profile. He pressed his thumb to the biometric lock, typed in the code for the day and entered his unit. Cameras followed his progress as he made his way to the one bedroom he’d bothered to have furnished before moving in. The delivery service had done a good job setting up the room for him, a simple metal framed bed and wooden nightstand that were dwarfed by the 10 by 10-foot square windows. The place looked vastly empty, he had to admit. The only other furnishing he’d bothered to request was a desk and chair for the living room.

After unpacking his clothes, he took his laptop over to his desk. It faced outward, looking down on the whole of Central Park, that swimming pool of green surrounded by the drab gray and black buildings of the city he loved. With a sigh he turned on his computer. Time to do some shopping. As always, he considered how he wished to be seen. Clothes made the man, and going somewhere like Serbia...despite his love of bespoke, high quality suits, he did realize he would have to attempt to blend in. If for no other reason than to not get robbed, he decided to dress casually. But what sort of casual? He couldn’t bear to wear something ill-fitting, and his lanky frame made most things difficult without tailoring. He had a wool coat that he sometimes wore when he had to do something in nature. He picked out some high laced work boots, dark gray trousers and a couple dark blue button-down shirts.

‘I’m going to look like I’m spelunking,’ he thought annoyed by how pedestrian it all was. Of course, there was always the possibility that even dressing down to that extent might make him stand out. Niš was one of the nicer cities in Serbia, but still...he might need to actually look poor. After agonizing over the idea of wearing jeans and buying some T-shirts to go with it, he couldn’t bring himself to get such things. “What would a Serbian-American guy wear besides fucking jeans and a T-shirt?” he muttered to himself, trying to figure out what kind of impression he wanted to make on his cousin. “Ah, I got it...” He selected a couple Adidas track suits and some leather high top sneakers. At least it was matching, and he did look good in black. Selecting same day delivery to the concierge desk, he went looking for plane tickets. He automatically started to select first class but hesitated for a moment. It would be better to create the mindset that he was playing a part. “Just a regular guy. Not your rich American cousin, no, no...” he muttered under his breath as he tried to make himself select coach. “Ugh! I can’t do it! Business is close enough!”

…

The flight was uneventful and soon enough he had arrived in Belgrade. From there it was a two-hour bus ride to Niš, then by taxi to the hotel. He checked into a Best Western of all things, trying his best to play his part. The gaudy décor screamed trying-too-hard _nouveau riche_ , but at least the pretty front desk girls made up for it. Giving them his best smile, he tried his Serbian out on them, asking where he could buy a cell phone. They giggled and gave him directions to the nearest shop then asked him where he was from. He grinned tightly and asked them to guess. The blonde guessed he was Bosnian, the brunette refused to guess and asked him more questions, trying to pick out his accent and word choice.

Finally, after answering several questions about art, science, history and fashion, he was surprised when she correctly guessed American. “How could you tell?” he asked, “Wait, let me guess, a lot of Americans stay here.” She laughed, “I have some American cousins. They use a lot of Turkish loan words that died out over fifty years ago.” He shook his head ruefully, reminding himself not to talk to the locals too much and give himself away. These girls seemed harmless enough, though the blonde got a hungry look in her eye once she heard ‘American.’ “Thank you, ladies.” He took off before she could start flirting with him. Time to get that cell phone.

…

Nikola sat quietly at the café, skimming a newspaper for words he didn’t recognize. “Turkish loan words...fuck...” he muttered to himself as he tried to figure out another unknown word from context. “Nick, is it you?” The lanky Serb looked up from his paper at the deep baritone voice. A young man stood a few feet away, dressed in a windbreaker and shorts, gazing at him with anxious blue gray eyes. Nikola got to his feet. “Yes. Petar! It’s good to meet you.” He held out his hand, noticing the younger man’s shyness as he reached forward to shake hands. Petar had a similar coloring to himself, dark haired but fair skinned, the same deep-set eyes and Roman nose, but with a broader face, square chin and heavier jawline. At 6’2” Nikola ended up looking down at his cousin. He was rather short for a Serb, at 5’9” or so, but with wide shoulders and solid looking. Gesturing toward the seat across from him, Nikola smiled, flagged down the waiter and ordered Petar an espresso.

“Ah, thanks,” the young man said obviously embarrassed, but smiled widely, showing beautiful white teeth. “How are you enjoying Serbia? When did you arrive?” Nikola put on his best charming smile, “Oh, it’s great. I just got here yesterday, and I have to say, it’s so different from New York. The architecture, the streets, the people.” Petar asked him the usual ice breaking questions and he regurgitated his memorized replies effortlessly. Occupation, electrical engineer. No wife or kids. His hobbies? Reading, billiards and swimming. “Ah, you look like a swimmer. Did you do it competitively?” Nikola was taken aback by that question, never having been mistaken for athletic before. “Ah, no, I just swim laps every day. It’s been a long time, but I used to love swimming in rivers and lakes. What about you? Have you been training?” He gestured vaguely toward the embroidered insignia on the young man’s windbreaker. It was evidently part of a team uniform for a local school’s sports program.

Petar sat up straighter and nodded seriously. “I was the top of my high school gymnastics team. Of course, that’s all over now, but I still train hard on the bars at the park. I’m hoping to enter the street workout competition next year.” Nikola smiled encouragingly, “That’s great. You’ve got a good build for it. After sixteen I was too tall to do much-” “Height isn’t such an impediment. Really it depends on the event...Sorry, I interrupted, what were you saying?” The older man shook his head indulgently, “Well, I was a spindly, sickly kid until college. I learned a bit from a friend. He was a wonder on the rings. Seeing what he could do, I felt pretty useless and more or less gave up after that.” Petar laughed, “The rings?! Start at the top why don’t you! You have to be crazy strong for that.” Nikola chuckled, “Yeah, Antal put me to shame. He looked like Gerard Butler in 300.” Petar smirked, “Yeah, he was huge in that, but not, you know, shredded.” Nikola shook his head bemusedly, “What do you mean?” The younger man shrugged and said, “Showing is better than telling. Why don’t we go down to the park?” Nikola called for the check and got to his feet. “Lead the way!”

...

The park was surrounded by slender birch trees, their multicolored leaves rustling gently in the wind. Nikola loved the purity of their white trunks. They reminded him of the forest surrounding Gospić where he evaded conscription for two years as a teenager. He had seen such trees in every season. Golden in fall, silvery and bare in winter, bursting with new buds in spring and luxuriously verdant in summer. Their cycling was not unlike that of his homeland, with its continual destruction in war followed by the flowering of long periods of rebuilding. He wondered what Gospić was like now, a desolate waste haunted by the dead, or bustling with a new generation filled with hope. With a smile for his young cousin, he hoped it was the latter. Petar deserved a life of peace and the chance to pursue his dreams.

The young man beckoned him over to the high bars, their peeling paint showing the remnants of various primary colors. “Alright! Let me see how many you can do!” Nikola goaded. The young man laughed then stripped off his windbreaker revealing a threadbare white T-shirt that fit like a second skin. _‘Damn, he is fit.’_ Nikola mused, raising an eyebrow as his cousin jumped up, grabbed the bar and powered through several muscle ups like it was nothing. After showing off a bit, he dropped back down to earth and gestured to the high bar. “Ok, your turn Nick!” The older man chuckled and shook his head ruefully, “I’m too old for this. I doubt I can even do one pullup at this point.” Petar tried to encourage him. “What, thirty-six? That’s no excuse! Just try and see. You don’t even know what you can do, do you?” Nikola scoffed, rolling his eyes. He _looked_ thirty-six but compared to a nineteen-year-old, he felt every bit of his one hundred and sixty odd years. “Alright, alright. If you really want me to look pathetic.” He got underneath the bar and wrinkled his nose at the thought of how filthy it no doubt was, then glanced over to find Petar arms crossed, smirking insufferably at him. “Go on! You aren’t scared to look weak are you?” Nikola narrowed his eyes and glared playfully at the arrogant young man, then jumped up and grabbed the bar.

Halfway through his attempt at one decent pullup, he found himself stalling out. Briefly he considered using his magnetism to help himself, but decided against it, feeling that cheating would be even more pathetic. Suddenly, he felt Petar’s hand tapping his left thigh. “Hey, bend your knees and I’ll give you a hand.” The older man flushed, embarrassed, but quickly crossed one ankle over the other and bent his legs. Petar grabbed him and assisted him just a little bit until he was able to grind out one slow pullup. He waited for his cousin to let go then dropped to the ground and rubbed his sore palms against his pants. “It’s been too long working behind a desk,” Nikola said as he shook his head ruefully and reflected on just how weak he had become. Not that long ago he could have put his young cousin to shame. The loss of his vampiric strength due to his own stupidity was the depressing icing on the cake. _‘A funeral cake,’_ he thought bitterly, but pasted on a fake smile and gestured to Petar. “Gymnastics, huh? You must be able to do more than what you showed me. Let’s see a front lever or something.”

Petar scoffed, took off his shirt and with the ease of long practice grabbed the bar and threw his legs forward and up, flipping easily over the top. He slowed at the bottom then swung back, brought himself to a halt at the top and performed a straddle planche. Nikola huffed softly in disbelief as he watched Petar hold it for just over twenty seconds. The young man carefully lowered his chest to the bar and dismounted. “Fucking great!” Nikola grinned and grabbed him by the shoulder. “I haven’t seen anything like that since Antal...God, you’re like an anatomy diagram.” The older man’s eyes trailed over ripped pecs, down the perfectly defined abs, lingering over an Apollo’s belt that put classical statuary to shame. A low chuckle snapped him out of his rapt ogling. He looked up into Petar’s blue gray eyes, a mere arm’s length away then let go of the young man’s shoulder abruptly. “Sorry...” he muttered awkwardly, trying to dispel the tension forming in his gut. His gorgeous cousin just laughed and cursed playfully, “ _Boli me kurac.”_ Nikola laughed with him, relieved that Petar didn’t mind.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys want me to translate Serbian curses?   
> Maybe just this one:   
> 'Boli me kurac' literally means 'My dick hurts' but is used to mean 'I don't care.'   
> Lol


	3. Chapter 3

After agreeing to meet Petar the next day at a small restaurant, Nikola made his way back to his room. Frankly, he hated public bathrooms with a passion and needed to wash his hands. Sanitizer just never felt clean enough. While it might do something about germs, there was still the possibility of dirt, which he couldn’t abide.

His cousin was nothing like he expected, not that he had had many expectations. The family resemblance was surprisingly still evident even after so many generations. The teen had the family nose, though he was blessed with fine straight teeth and he was certainly built different from his distant ancestor Josif Tesla.

Nikola stripped off the horrid outfit of work clothes and got in the shower. Turning the water up as hot as he could stand it, he scrubbed vigorously until his skin was red, then relaxed under the punishing stream of near scalding water.

His mind wandered back over a century and a half, remembering vividly his Uncle Josif. Nikola liked to think that he bore some resemblance to the great soldier. They had very similar features and the exact same build, though his uncle’s body was wiry with corded muscle gained through hard training in fencing and horsemanship. It was no wonder, as Josif’s father, also named Nikola Tesla, had gained renown in Napoleon’s Army and raised his sons to follow in his footsteps.

Josif had spent many hours looking after Nikola when he was young, whereas his father, the Orthodox priest Milutin, was too busy at the church wrestling with his God, and his mother had too many chores to do. Unless he was helping her in the fields or feeding the livestock, she certainly didn’t have time to follow him around the woods and make sure he didn’t fall off a cliff or drown in the river. Instead, it fell to Milutin’s big brother, who had sufficient rank to take days off and supervise his nephew.

Little Nikola thought Uncle Josif was a giant among men, idolizing him as a true hero of the Serbian people, ready to fight and die at a moment’s notice, to protect his countrymen and his land. Raised on the romantic epic sagas, his only aspiration as a boy was to be a great warrior like Uncle Josif. Of course, the adults knew that he was too sickly, too weak in body and nerves, to ever find success as a soldier. But as a young child he was basically left to his fantasies with no real direction or expectations put upon him, until Dane died that is. After that, as the only surviving son, it became his responsibility to carry on his Father’s work and become a priest, and then came his great anxiety and misery. But, before that sad event, Nikola remembered being fairly happy and carefree.

His uncle was good company, nimble and stealthy in the woods as he taught him about the forest and lakes and the creatures within them. How to safely cross rivers, to swim as swiftly as a fish, to make a smokeless fire, to track and trap animals, to navigate by the stars...All were skills his uncle taught him, along with advice on how to handle the older boys who bullied him occasionally. Unfortunately, he was too scrawny to do much about them. It wasn’t all perfect. Often, he would bore his taciturn uncle to the point of frustration with his endless childish questions and prattle. But their relationship was so much happier than Nikola’s interactions with his father.

Somehow, messing around with Petar at the park had reminded him of that time in his life, the last time he had felt strong and capable as a human. Of course, most of his life he had been a vampire, and had no need to rely on physical training to feel confident or powerful. He still remembered with vivid clarity, the day he’d realized how much stronger he had become and couldn’t help but want to show off. Helen had been very displeased when he lifted her piano to demonstrate, but the look of awe on Nigel’s face and the grudging respect on John’s had been so gratifying. Now that easy strength was gone, and he was reduced to the same weakness he’d had as a human.

To be honest, his entire human life, from the moment he saw his brother die, was ruled by crippling fear covered up to the best of his ability with his pride in his intelligence. Now, as he stared mortality in the face, he felt helpless in the face of sickness, old age and death. He’d always comforted himself with the thought that his failures didn’t matter, that there would always be more time. Time to harness the near limitless power of nature, time to convince Helen he was worthy of her love. Now it was clear that time was running out and he intended to make the most of it.

…

“Maybe I should just have what you’re having. What do you usually get here?” Nikola scanned the surprisingly long menu of the casual but rather nice restaurant. The outdoor tables were set with pure white tablecloths and the waiters kept up a constant stream of lemon infused water. Petar studied the menu closely, then tossed it on the table. “I’m not very hungry. The calamari is good. We could split it if you want.” Nikola nodded and sipped his water delicately. As they waited for the food, he tried his hand at making conversation with his cousin. “Did you take off work to show me around today? I hope you don’t get in any trouble.”

Petar laughed nervously, “Ah, well, I don’t have any work at the moment, so it’s no problem. We could see some of the Roman ruins, the fortress, things like that. If you’re interested in history.” The older man nodded, “Sure, wasn’t there some Tower of Skulls around here?” Petar got a pained look and quickly covered it with an insincere smile. “It’s not very interesting. Would you like to see the Cathedral or...you like to swim, right? We could go to the water park.” “Sure, I just need to get a bathing suit.” The younger man nodded and changed the subject.

“Do you know more about how we are related? The ancestry report said it was many generations ago, like five, I think. I looked it over again and found out it is through my mother’s father, but I don’t know anything about them.” He looked away, dark brows furrowed pensively over stormy deep-set eyes. “Actually, I never even knew her, so I would really like to know. Who were her ancestors?” Nikola was put in an awkward spot. He wanted to help his cousin, but at the same time wasn’t sure how much to reveal. Making a snap decision, he decided to let slip some of the truth. “Our most famous common ancestor was a Nikola Tesla. Not the inventor of course. He never had any kids. But his grandfather of the same name.” Petar broke into a dazzling smile. “Really!? So, I’m sort of, like Tesla’s descendent?” He laughed boyishly with uninhibited delight. Nikola smiled back, happy that his legacy was still something to be proud of. “Hey, is that why you became an electrical engineer? Did you know about it and wanted to follow in Tesla’s footsteps?” Nikola nodded, “Something like that. I had a talent for it.”

The calamari was brought out by a young waiter who seemed to recognize Petar. The young gymnast met the other man’s gaze briefly, then pretended to look at the menu. Nikola jumped when the angry waiter threw the plate of calamari on the table with a clatter while barking out the slur, “ _B_ _uljaš!”_ There was a supremely awkward silence after the waiter left. Petar had flushed red with humiliation but he steeled himself and looked his American cousin in the eye. “An old classmate. I’m sorry that you had to see that.” He cleared his throat and attempted to go on as if someone had not just spat the word faggot in his face. “Are you still interested in the water park later?” Nikola raised a brow and smiled ruefully, “Of course, of course. But, maybe you’d like to go somewhere else first?” Throwing a few dinars on the table, he swiftly got to his feet and gestured for Petar to follow him.

…

“This place looks expensive. I feel bad that you paid for a meal we didn’t even eat.” Petar was nervous, thinking his cousin must think him a freeloader. That on top of being outed by being publicly insulted was making him feel sick. An elegant hand waved off his words carelessly, “Let’s just get drunk. Who cares about eating anyway.” Nick was leading them straight to the bar. “Two rakija!” he demanded, then slid the shot glass over to Petar. “Here, _živio!_ ” The handsome older man drank the strong plum brandy like it was water. “Another!” The gymnast smiled and tried to drink with the same assurance but ended up tentatively sipping in between coughs.

“I don’t drink much. It’s bad for training, you know.” He muttered bashfully, while the American shot him a dubious look. “Uh huh. Trouble handling your alcohol?” Petar shook his head adamantly. “I’ve been drinking since I was eleven!” Nick threw back his third shot and laughed, “Ha! I’ve got you beat. I’ve been drinking since I was ten!” Petar tried to catch up, forcing down his second and starting on a third. “Wait a minute, that’s not even legal in the US...” he muttered, feeling his legs start to weaken. The older man’s drink paused halfway to his mouth, “That’s true...” Petar watched Nick’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed down his fourth glass. “I guess I’m always breaking the law,” his cousin muttered, his steel gray eyes so dilated the inky pupils were rimmed by the thinnest ring of color. Petar swallowed slowly as the tall, lanky man leaned over him, coming closer to mutter something in his ear. “What’d you say?” he had to ask, unable to make out the slurred Serbian. “Let’s go somewhere quieter, okay?” Nick said too loudly, putting his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder.

...

Petar followed Nick into his hotel room, not sure how he was supposed to act. The Serbian love of drinking certainly held true for his American cousin, whatever other differences there might be. The non-reaction to the revelation of his sexual orientation was encouraging. Petar often dreamt of leaving Serbia for a more liberal country, though he’d mostly thought about going somewhere in the EU, rather than America. Not having to worry about being stabbed if he didn’t keep a low profile would be nice, he mused sarcastically. Maybe America was possible? Until meeting Nick, he’d dismissed it as too far, too expensive, too difficult. But maybe, just maybe, Nick could sponsor him? Didn’t he say he had no more family?

After raiding the minibar, they collapsed on the couch together. Taking another shot of liquid courage, Petar asked, “How long did you want to stay in Serbia anyway? I was surprised you could just drop everything and come.” The older man scoffed, “I don’t know if I’ll ever go back. I mean, I can go back, or I could stay. I’m sick of the States. Just had’ta get away from...from someone...” Petar’s ears perked up, “Bad breakup, huh?” The older man nodded but waved away his questions, “Don’ wanna talk about it. Let’s talk about something else.” Petar was silent a moment, then blurted out, “Was it a man or a woman?” After an awkward silence, he panicked, “Shit! I’m sorry, you don’t want to talk about it. Just forget I said anything.” Nick sighed, “It’s a woman. Mostly I like women...” he yawned, his glass slipping from his hand, spilling on the carpet. “Shit. That’ll cost me somethin’...” He laughed drunkenly, then turned toward Petar with a smug little smile.

“Why? You thinkin’ of bein’ kissin’ cousins?” Petar felt put on the spot, frozen with indecision and fear. _‘Is he playing with me, or is he for real? Should I even do anything, since he so drunk?’_ The thoughts raced through his mind, until he came to a decision and was able to relax a bit. “Only if you want. But I wouldn’t do anything now. You’re too drunk.” The young man stated it firmly, trying to project confidence that he didn’t feel, wondering if Nick would make fun of him for taking it seriously, or be insulted for turning him down. The older man yawned again and threw his head back on the couch. “You’re right. I _am_ too drunk...” Petar relaxed completely, relieved his cousin wasn’t offended, then smiled broadly when he heard faintly, “You’re so hot though...” followed by soft snoring.

...

“Nick, hey Nick.” Nikola awoke to find his cousin standing over him, shaking him by the shoulder. “Hmm? What is it?” He was still a little buzzed, but only enjoyably so. Petar handed him a paper cup of coffee. “I ordered some _burek_. Are you hungry?” The older man savored the scent of the reviving hot beverage then sipped it tentatively. “Yeah, what kind? I like the cheese filled...” His young cousin shook his head, “Sorry, they only had pork. Is it alright?” Nikola took one of the meat pastries, examined it dubiously, shrugged and took a bite. “Huh, not bad.” He mumbled through his food, still too drunk to care much about propriety. After a few more sips of coffee, he started to feel more alert and to remember their last conversation. Anxious to figure out where they stood, Nikola figured some more information was necessary.

“Where are you living? Did you inherit your family home or what?” Petar shook his head somberly. “It burned down. A gas fire.” Nikola was surprised. He’d thought his cousin must have his own home, considering how unworried he was to be unemployed at the moment. Putting two and two together he asked softly, “Is that how your father...?” The teenager nodded silently, unwilling or unable to talk about it. Nikola felt a sensation he hadn’t had for a long time, pity and the desire to do something about it. Unsure how his cousin might react to his words he asked again gently, “So, where are you living now?” The younger man shifted around uncomfortably but spat it out. “I’ve been camping.” 

Nikola absorbed that bit of information, thinking about where on earth a homeless guy would end up in the city. Without family or friends to stay with, the situation could become extremely unpleasant during most seasons, and downright dire during the winter. “How long have you been doing that?” Sighing heavily, the young man seemed to come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to let it go. He looked him in the eye, “Two years.” Nikola was shocked. “What do you do when it snows?” he asked, flabbergasted by his cousin’s stoic resolve. Petar startled him with a bitter laugh. “It’s not easy,” he muttered, then elaborated, “There’s no shelters available. Every year they fill to capacity with the elderly and sick. Someone like me, they just tell me to get a job, stay with friends, whatever.” Nikola broke in, “I don’t understand. Do you have a friend to stay with?” Petar shook his head firmly. “In school...I had a crush on my best friend. He found out and told someone else who told everyone. They all know, and no one will give me the time of day...You saw Marko-the waiter. My _friends_ either treated me like he did, or just ignored me and refused to have anything to do with me.”

The older man’s brow furrowed in consternation. “It will be winter soon. What will you do?” Petar frowned sadly, his blue gray eyes anxious and untrusting. “I don’t think...It’s not your problem, okay?” Nikola gently put a hand on Petar’s shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want, but I-” he hesitated, trying to figure out how to reassure the younger man that he was genuine. “I’ll help you if you want. I’ve always been ready to help family.” He smiled soothingly, hoping to transfer a feeling of safety to the young man. Petar assessed him then nodded slowly. “I’ll show you where I’m staying. If you really mean what you’ve said.” Nikola nodded indulgently. “Sure. We can work all this out, don’t worry.”

...

Petar’s stomach felt like he’d swallowed a cannonball. Was he really going to show his American cousin how bad his situation was? Nick had asked to see where he was sleeping tonight and like a stupid little kid, he had agreed. Why had he done that? His cousin would take one look and refuse to have anything to do with him anymore, just like everyone else. The sun was on the horizon by the time he led the older man to the outskirts of the city. He stopped at the edge of a large open field, littered with worn stone buildings and strewn with the markers of lives that had come and gone, like so many seasons, never to be experienced again. Pointing to a stone lined hole in the ground he said simply, “There. It’s the entrance to a crypt. I don’t know whose...the names have worn away.”

He waited for the rejection, the horror or pity or contempt, but looked up in surprise when Nick pressed his shoulder up against his own. “Sleeping next to the dead...is it peaceful?” Looking up at the older man, he was uncertain what to make of his calm demeanor. “Honestly? I worry soon I will fear the living more than the dead. No one bothers me out here. They don’t have the guts. And I pray for the occupants. My neighbors.” He cracked a sardonic smile, watching it mirrored in the older man’s face. “Come on. Get your stuff and we’ll get you a room for a bit. It’ll give us some time to figure out what’s next for you, okay?” Petar swallowed down tears. “Thank you.” he said simply and meant it.

…


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up in a bed the next morning made him smile. He stretched and rolled around on the soft mattress blissfully. The hot shower last night had left him feeling so clean. _‘Reborn,’_ he thought. _‘Maybe my new life starts today...’_ He got out of bed and did his customary fifty pushups and sit ups. Then he reached for his phone. A message was already on it, time stamped 5:26 am.

_Nick: Meet me at the café across the street when you wake up._

Petar grinned widely, glad to see his cousin was eager to see him. As he combed his hair, he checked himself out in the mirror. Unsatisfied with what he saw, he stripped off his undershirt and posed in just his briefs. His waist was looking narrow, shoulders built. His chest never looked big enough to him, even though he could get a nice V taper with the lat spread. He hooked his thumbs behind his waist, pressed his shoulder blades out and breathed in deeply. It was acceptable. Dismissing his inadequacy with a sigh he raised his arms, put his hands behind his head and flexed his abs. Not bad. He was lean enough to see every muscle in high definition. Nick certainly seemed to appreciate the view. He smiled at his reflection. Maybe he’d like to watch him train today and who knew where that might lead.

After getting dressed, he checked himself out in the mirror one more time. A white hoody over gray track pants. Scuffed sneakers. It wasn’t exactly winning him any points, but he figured that his body was the real fashion statement. Grabbing the key on the way out the door, he quickly made his way down the hall. Nick had paid for the next three days. ‘ _Wonder what that means?’_ he mused as he pushed through the double doors of the hotel. _‘Is that how long I have to impress him?’_ He crossed the street cautiously and scanned the outdoor tables in front of the café. He spotted his cousin’s sharp figure, black hair slicked back, dark sunglasses concealing his eyes. “Hey, Nick!” he called.

His cousin grimaced as he looked up and waved him over. The yoghurt, bread and _kajmak_ indicated that he was nursing a hangover. “What are you wearing? You look like a gangster.” he teased as he took a seat and ordered his own yoghurt to drink. Nick glared at him over the dark shades, “Good. I hope everyone realizes how dangerous I am with this fucking headache.” Petar laughed, “Adidas. I like it. Did you want to go train? I can show you anything you want to know.”

The older man nodded carefully while toying with the bread. He pushed the spreadable fresh cheese and bread toward the younger man who eagerly ate it. “We should start thinking about where you want to live. I’m more partial to Novi Sad or Belgrade myself.” Petar froze, food halfway in his mouth. He swallowed and rubbed his lips awkwardly. “What do you mean? Do you think I should move cities?” Nick smiled faintly. “Well, I’d like to, if you wanted to split the rent with me.” Petar couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You want to live here, together? Why?” The older man sighed leisurely, “Why not? There’s nothing I couldn’t do here with a fast internet connection. Working remotely is one of the perks of my job. And like I said, I’m tired of the States at the moment.”

The gymnast mulled the proposal over. Was Nick...would he expect something in return for all this generosity? He had said he was attractive. Would he be expected to have sex- Nick spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “I just want to get you on your feet. You’re my family and I’ll gladly help you. Why not split things this way?” The older man seemed eager to fill the pregnant silence, anxious to hear his reply.

Petar frowned and said slowly, “Thank you for helping me...but, I don’t know if...I’m not a project for you to work on while you’re-please don’t take offense, but I feel like you trying to distract yourself from your own problems by helping me.” The younger man waited for his cousin to curse him for being so blunt, but the older man just sat very still, looking at him unreadably from behind those black sunglasses. Finally, he broke the expectant silence with an annoyed tsk. “Well, you’ve got my number.” He took off the sunglasses with a wince, revealing reddened eyes. Nick gave him a sickly smile and asked softly, “Is it okay if maybe I just asked if _you_ could help _me_ out? I’d like to stay in Serbia. Perhaps you could consider me as a roommate.”

Petar smiled ruefully at how his cousin turned the situation around. It felt a lot better being put in charge. “Alright. Yeah, why not. You can get work, so...it’s just a matter of me getting up my half. Of course, you know unemployment is so high in Serbia. Usually I just work construction during the summer and some of the fall. That just ended so I still have some extra money. I don’t want to lose that job for the future by leaving town. As for the spring and winter, I don’t know what to do then because everything shuts down and it’s very hard to find anything without a connection.”

Nick nodded, “Nepotism, huh? Well, I really need someone to help me get established here. If you could advise me, take me down to the government office and so on...” Petar nodded and gestured expansively, “Sure! And hey, you wanted to train with me, right? You really need it. I’ll train you, no charge!” Nick laughed boisterously, “Oh yeah? You’ll have your work cut out for you! But sure, I think I can surprise you.”

…

Petar slid the eggs out of the pan onto two plates. He’d never had much interest in cooking until he was on the street. After two years of eating nothing but cheap takeout and plain sliced bread, he was so glad to have a stove. The furnished apartment he was sharing with Nick was small and somewhat dingy but made up for it by being centrally located. Nick had insisted on being close to an internet café that had a high-speed connection. Since they had moved in a month ago, the electrical engineer would walk down the street and work for four hours, then come back in time for a late lunch. After that they would head out to the park and train for three hours, then come back for drinks and dinner. The young man was surprised at how easily they fell into the routine and was happy with his new sense of stability and calm. Even when he occasionally ran across one of his homophobic former classmates, he felt unflustered.

The landlord had been suspicious of them at first. An American choosing to room with an attractive young guy... and Petar had to admit that his cousin did give off a slightly effeminate impression. He had been extremely nervous about possibly being abused and thrown out. But the landlord seemed to accept that they really were cousins. The family resemblance was sufficient to be convincing he supposed. The neighbors didn’t seem to care and minded their own business, except for an older woman who shot them dirty looks and crossed herself every time she walked past them. Nothing ever came of it though, so the young gymnast was unconcerned.

“Morning.” The American said softly as he took his seat at the small wobbly table. Petar gave him a Turkish coffee then sat down across from him and inquired, “How are you feeling today? You still sore?” The older man sleepily pulled up his undershirt and idly rubbed his lightly haired abs. Petar enjoyed the show, letting his eyes trail over the line of hair that descended into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Yeah, but not as much as before,” Nick yawned and drank the coffee quickly. It was already cooling off in the frigid winter temperatures.

Despite the space heater, the room was adequately cold that Petar only really felt comfortable with his hoodie on. How Nick could sit there practically in underwear he couldn’t understand, especially with how slim he was. The sleeveless white undershirt was thin enough he could see the outline of the older man’s nipples. He had to be cold. What the hell. The nineteen-year-old was starting to imagine taking the usual cold shower after his sexy cousin left for the day. He shuddered just imagining the freezing water and decided it wasn’t worth it. Another solution would have to be tried.

“You okay? Cold?” the older man asked solicitously, seeming genuinely worried for his health. Petar nodded, glad for the distraction. “Don’t worry. I’m tough. Can’t wait to get out there on the bars. You ready for pushups in the snow?” He smirked, goading the older man’s pride. Nick scowled mockingly, “If you are. Shivering here doesn’t seem promising.” He bolted down his eggs, got up and took off his shirt casually as he walked back to his bedroom. Looking over a narrow shoulder, Nick teased, “Can’t wait to see you whimpering about the cold.” He shut the door behind himself, cutting off Petar’s view of him getting dressed.

Petar ran the sight of his cousin’s lanky upper body in front of his mind’s eyes again, savoring the memory of his fine sharp shoulder blades, the pale hairless chest with tight rosy little nipples. ‘ _He’s killing me, I’m so hard. Why doesn’t he just come over and touch me?’_ The hot-blooded teenager retreated to his own bedroom, taking the opportunity to conceal his erection behind closed doors. He yelled back distractedly as Nick called out that he was leaving then threw himself down on his small bed letting out a frustrated groan once he heard the door close. “God, I want to fuck you so bad...” he muttered into the pillow, rubbing his aching dick against the mattress a little. He flipped to his back, pulled down the waistband of his pants and closed his eyes. Time to take this situation in hand...

_..._

Nikola was getting a little tired of the unambitious little projects he had managed to find. They were reasonably well paying but terribly dull and he would rather be working on what he felt passionate about. Unfortunately, there just weren’t a lot of projects that involved power generation and storage that could be done remotely. Thermal solar arrays, tidal hydroelectric turbines, even graphene battery design, they all required him to work on site or in the lab. Projects like this one; a circuit design for a stupid little sound chip for cheap calculators, it just wasn’t cutting it for him. He could do this level of work in his sleep.

Typically, he would knock out a few projects in the first two hours, make a few thousand dollars, then try to resist the temptation to gamble away half of it with varying success. Usually, the only way he could keep himself from the online casino was to engage in a little day trading. He was just messing with his account, when he heard a familiar voice call his name from behind. He froze, realizing he’d been careless, then turned to find Petar looking over his shoulder with a deer in the headlights look on his face. “Uh, I thought I’d surprise you with lunch.” The younger man nervously gestured to a hanky tied in a bundle.

Nikola thanked him faintly and got to his feet. He led the teenager out of the internet café and back to their apartment. Closing the door behind them firmly, he said mildly, “I guess you saw, huh?” The gymnast shook his head slowly, “I don’t understand what I saw. It said 24 million dollars. How-?” “Well, now you know. I’m rich. What are you going to do?” Petar squinted up at his taller cousin, “Do? I don’t understand-” “Are you upset I hid it from you?” The teenager sat heavily on the rickety kitchen chair. “I don’t know. I-you don’t need to work, so why put on this show-” “I like working. And, I couldn’t exactly just tell you something like, Oh, I’m a multimillionaire, so don’t worry about anything ever again. Can you imagine how that would have looked?” Petar shook his head, “It-yeah, I wouldn’t have said that. Okay...” He rocked back and forth a bit nervously. “Um, God, why do you care about someone like me?” He thought about how degraded he had felt, digging food out of the trash, living in a hole in the ground like an animal. And this man, he was...What was he doing here in Serbia anyway?

Spreading his long, fine-boned hands the multimillionaire said soothingly, “I’m just the same as before. You’re my last relative. I asked the love of my life to marry me and she shot me down. I’m having a midlife crisis or whatever.” The older man smiled sardonically, trying to put his cousin at ease. He approached and carefully put his hand on a wide shoulder. Massaging the taut muscle gently, he dipped his head down, bringing himself down to Petar’s level. “I’m having a great time here. Maybe I needed to come here to...I don’t know, remember what it’s like to be a Serb.”

The younger man swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of how beautiful his cousin’s eyes were. His lashes were dark, inky black against the paleness of his deep-set eyes. The warmth of his hand squeezing his shoulder soothingly felt like it was burning his skin right through his clothes. He inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of bergamot and clove. As though hypnotized, he leaned forward, catching the faint scent of sweat underneath the cologne. Nick smiled warmly down at him, making him feel so safe, comfortable with his own desire.

He placed one hand on the back of Nick’s neck and gently pulled his head down. The older man’s breath caressed him as they came face to face, lips mere centimeters away. Their gazes met and he watched those steel gray eyes dilate with arousal. Petar pulled him closer and pressed his lips to that gorgeous mouth. Nick let him kiss him for a moment, then turned aside, took him by the shoulders and kissed him firmly on both cheeks. “Dearest brother…” he whispered tenderly, then smiled gently and pulled away. “Did you eat already? What was for lunch?” Petar shook his head, feeling like he was waking up from a dream. “It’s a sandwich. I already had lunch…”

He sat there and watched Nick carefully as the older man puttered around the kitchen and made himself another coffee to have with lunch. As he ate, the young gymnast began thinking how his actions might have been construed. Did Nick think he was trying to seduce him now that he knew he was rich? It would explain his withdrawal. The young man was troubled by the idea and resolved to try and set things straight. Petar let his cousin finish lunch then tried to assert himself. “Your L-sit was looking good yesterday. We should do it on the horizontal bar today, to make it a little harder. Maybe get some definition in those invisible abs of yours.”

Nick snickered, “Good luck with that. Once you told me I’d have to stop drinking and start running to make them show I knew it would never happen.” Petar shook his head, feeling exasperated. “Yeah, yeah, you only run where you’re being chased. I remember. Time at the pool would do just as well, but you won’t go back to the water park-“ “After seeing that kid taking a piss in the water, I’ll pass thanks. It’s cleaner in the fucking river than in that sewer.”

Petar sighed, “I can do something with your diet. Make you even leaner…” He grinned and playfully poked his cousin in the belly saying, “But there’s already not a lot to work with here!” Nick grabbed his hand, bent his finger back just enough to hurt a little bit, then threw his hand back at him. “You’re too obsessed with appearance. I’m happy just to get stronger and be able to do more.” Petar nodded and shrugged. “Okay, okay. Come on, let’s go. I have to get training.”

…

The park was filled with young men today. Tall and lean, muscles sculpted under bare skin, they had the typical look of most Balkan youths. Petar felt as out of place physically with his shorter, compact frame as he did psychologically. He recognized one of the men training on the high bars as a former team mate on his old high school’s gymnastics team. Lazar had been very competitive with him, but at 1.8 meters he was a bit tall for the sport. Eventually he’d given up and went into wrestling. After that, they hadn’t had much contact.

Petar decided to avoid eye contact and head to the other side of the park. They could use the parallel bars for a while. Maybe he’d work on his wrists today with the progression from planche to a handstand. Nick had really enjoyed watching his forearms flex the last time he’d worked on it. True to form, while he was straining to control his descent back down from a perfect handstand, Nick couldn’t help but comment. “God, your grip must be strong!” Petar smiled tightly as the older man approached and lightly put his elegant fingers around the taut tendon and bulging muscle of his forearm. “You’re hard as fucking rock!”

“Is that what you say in the bedroom, _furundžija_?” a familiar voice said mockingly, followed by jeering laughter. Petar hurriedly dismounted and put the bars between himself and the crowd of young men. Nick came up next to him and asked under his breath, “What does that mean?” The younger man muttered, “It’s like the word for oven, _fùruna_. A hot place to stick things…” Nick huffed, covering his worry with mild amusement. “What do you want?” he snapped imperiously at the younger men, then turned to Petar, “You know any of these assholes?” Petar nodded then addressed Lazar, who was apparently the leader of the homophobic gang. “What’s up Lazar?”

The tall brown-haired young man curled his lip in disgust and spat in their direction. “We’re training for the competition in Belgrade next summer. Are you going to pollute it with your disgusting perversion?” Petar sighed, tired of having these kinds of conversations. “Leave me alone already. High school was a long time ago and my life is none of your business.” The ringleader advanced on the two men yelling, “You think it’s not the business of the community when your actions are an insult to God?!” Coming around the bars, he advanced on Nick and lunged for him snarling, “We will stop you from spreading the gay propaganda of the West!”

…

Nikola automatically tried to dodge the first punch, then abruptly remembered the loss of his vampiric speed when he failed. Pain exploded through his face as Lazar’s fist connected with his left eye. Realizing that he was really in trouble he turned to run, only to be grabbed from behind. It became apparent that his attacker wanted to hold him so his friends could take turns beating him. They laughed and jeered when he called for help. Petar had his hands full, trying to fight off two of the attackers. He was giving as good as he got but wasn’t able to come to Nikola’s aid. Lazar chortled and mocked him, “Your ‘cannoneer’ won’t save you, little faggot.”

The older man threw his head back, attempting to hit his tormentor in the nose, then quickly kicked him in the shins when that failed. It was a combination that Helen had taught him long ago, when she recruited him to hunt down John with her one time. A counter move for the man who loved to appear behind his prey and stab them in the back or slit their throat. With a yelp, Lazar lost his hold and Nikola was able to slip free, only to find himself surrounded. He gauged his various opponents’ strength and picked the nervous looking one who happened to be closest to Petar.

Sensing his resolve to attack, the swarthy young man rushed him, going low to try and pick him up off his feet. Knowing that once he was on the ground, it was all over, Nikola somehow managed a quick and dirty hip throw, sending the kid crashing face first to the cement. The others momentarily backed away from him, leaving him free to try and help Petar who was too busy shielding himself from his two attackers’ blows to fight back. “I fuck your mother!” Nikola yelled at the closest one, while aiming a punch for the little punk’s kidney. It connected solidly, guaranteeing the boy would be pissing blood tomorrow.

The fight distracted Petar’s other opponent long enough for the gymnast to hit him in the jaw, knocking the teen to the ground with a thud. “Quick! Let’s get out of here!” Petar yelled and the two cousins took off, Nikola sprinting as fast as lightning, his long ground eating stride giving him the lead. It seemed like they would make it out of the park and back to the relative safety of the busy street, when suddenly a devastating blow felled Nikola. Cheek pressed to the ground, wind knocked out of him, the stunned ex-vampire watched a slow stream of blood form on the cement before his eyes. Then everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

He woke up face down in bed at the apartment, the light stinging his eyes unbearably as his head hurt so bad he thought his brain was too big for his skull. “Turn…it…off!” he ground out, hoping Petar could hear him. With a clatter, the light suddenly ceased, leaving him in the dim, claustrophobic space. Whimpering involuntarily, he tried to piece together what had happened. “Petar? How’d I get back…” The younger man crouched low next to the bed, his bruised face looking at him in fear. “I carried you back. They threw a rock and it hit you in the back of the head. You were unconscious for about half an hour.” Nikola mulled that over groggily, “Shouldn’t you get an ambulance? I, I don’t feel very well…” He seemed to recall Helen saying being knocked out that long was very serious. He should be in a hospital right now.

Petar looked distressed, “I called one but when they saw Lazar and his bunch, they refused to do anything. I don’t know what else to do.” The older man closed his eyes tightly, feeling helpless and sick to his stomach. Pushing away his fear, he tried distracting himself, “How did you get out of it? Did they give up after knocking me out?” The familiar baritone replied, “Yeah, that and I found a bottle, broke it and told them I didn’t care if I go to jail. I’d stab them if came near us. They hung around and yelled at me while I waited for the ambulance. God, I’m so sorry…” The young man voice broke, becoming increasingly hysterical at the situation they found themselves in.

Nikola cracked open his one unswollen eye and reached out to the younger man, taking his hand and squeezing it weakly. “It’s okay. You’ve done your best. Just leave me a while to rest, okay? Go get cleaned up and come back later.” Bloodshot blue gray eyes stared back at him through tears. Gradually, the image blurred as Nikola’s eyes refused to focus. Closing them to shut out the unwelcome sight, he lay very still, then fell back asleep.

…

Petar realized that Nick was in serious trouble. He could speak and remember what happened, but for how long? His cousin might die if he didn’t do something right now. The advice to let him rest, that couldn’t be right. Weren’t you supposed to keep awake with a concussion? He tried calling the ambulance again, hoping that he would get a different person than last time. After a short time waiting and providing information again, he heard a man say in the background, “Those pedophiles again. Fuck them. Hang up on them.” The connection ended as Petar felt like his heart was being crushed in his chest. “No, no, no!” he growled, throwing the phone down and pacing the small room. They didn’t have a car and the hospital was too far to walk. With no other options, he would just have to hope a taxi would stop for them, despite how beat up they looked.

“Nick! Nick, wake up, please!” he said loudly, hoping his cousin was still able to regain consciousness. After Petar yelled in the man’s ear, he came to. “Huh? Why you callin’ me Nick?” Petar shook his head anxiously and tried to keep it short and simple. “I’m taking you to the hospital, but I need money for a taxi. Where is it?” The older man blinked at him slowly then mumbled, “It’s under the mattress. An envelope.” Petar felt around under the mattress until he found it under the side closer to the wall. It was a fat envelope. Aware that treatment could cost a lot of money up front, he took all of it. “Come on. Can you get up? We need to get to the taxi stand.”

…

The doctor looked them over with cold eyes. She performed her job competently but perfunctorily, without any sense of compassion or concern. “The scans don’t show any clots. Give him paracetamol for pain. He should rest in a dark room and do nothing. Don’t read, don’t watch TV, nothing, for a week or longer. Don’t talk to him too much. Leave him alone.” She said the last harshly, letting him know her opinion of their obvious injuries and possible relationship, then turned on her heel and left without a goodbye. Petar went back to the waiting room where they had left Nick, barely upright in a hard chair, hand covering his eyes. “Hey, let’s get home,” he said gently, helping the slender man to his feet and out the doors of the hospital to the nearest taxi stand.

…

The next few days were the worst of Petar’s life, excepting the night of the house fire that took everything from him. In some ways he felt this was worse. The fire had been completely random. An accident that couldn’t have been predicted or prevented. Nick’s injury was due to him. To his carelessness and lack of caution. Why hadn’t he just turned around and left once he saw someone who recognized him and knew what he was? Did he think it would make him a coward, to not refuse to hide or lie or run away? Remembering the fight, he thought his cousin had real courage. The guy could take a punch and was vicious despite his slight frame and musculature.

‘ _He looks so small lying there.’_ Petar looked at his cousin from the doorway of the dimly lit bedroom, reluctant to disturb his rest despite the need to give him food. He had made some white bean soup yesterday to try and nurse Nick back to health. The man didn’t seem to like it too much though based on how little he’d been eating. Gently sitting on the edge of the bed, Petar placed his large hand on a delicate shoulder. He had to get him to eat. The slender man was losing weight even over the course of just a few days. “Petar? What time is it?” The normally smooth tenor was gravely with sleep. He sometimes seemed confused about where he was and what time of day it was, though thankfully not about who Petar was.

“It’s thirteen hundred. How does your head feel?” The older man sighed tiredly, “It’s still sore, but I’ll live. _I miss America though._ ” Petar shook his head startled to hear his cousin speak English. “What did you say about America?” he inquired, wondering if Nick forgot he didn’t speak the language. “Hmm?” the older man hummed, playing with his soup. “ _Oh, just that I’m homesick, that’s all.”_ “You’re speaking English right now. Do you know that?” Petar asked slowly, wondering how bad this concussion was. Nick looked up at him with his good eye, obviously surprised. “What? I was?” The younger man nodded, a pained look on his face. He thought back to how the doctor had told him not to talk to Nick too much. But it had already been days…Surely, it must be okay by now?

Changing the subject, he decided to ask Nick about his country. “You’ve never told me much about your life in America. Have you lived anywhere else besides New York?” The older man ate a small bite of soup then chased it with a gulp of water. “What, in America? I went to Chicago for a while and Colorado Springs. There wasn’t much there at the time.” Petar nodded, wondering why those cities seemed familiar, like they were connected somehow. “Oh. Did you live outside America too? Before this I mean.” Considering how cavalier the man had been about relocating to Serbia, he supposed that it was possible Nick had lived in other countries before.

He started to nod, then abruptly stopped himself with a wince. “Uh, yes. I lived in France for a couple years. _Und_ _Kaisertum Österreich_.“ Petar recognized the German language. He’d taken several years of it in school and could understand most things, though he was piss poor at speaking it. “The Austrian Empire? What year would that be?” he joked, thinking Nick had mixed up his words as well as languages this time. The older man replied without hesitation, “Oh, it was 1856 to ‘79. Then I went to Prague, Budapest, then to England for a while…” he trailed off and brought his hand to his head. “Tired…see you later, okay?” he muttered, then lay back down and fell asleep.

Petar sat there in shock. Those dates…He picked up the bowl of half eaten soup and left the bedroom. Sitting down heavily on the couch he took out his phone and searched the name ‘Nikola Tesla.’ There it was in print: “Nikola Tesla, born in 1856, Smiljan, Lika Province, Austrian Empire…” He skimmed down the Wikipedia entry, “Prague University, 1880…what the hell?” he muttered to himself. Was Nick confusing his own life story with that of their illustrious ancestor? “How much did that rock scramble your brains?” he growled, suddenly filled with anguished rage. “Those motherfuckers! I should kill them!” He clenched his fists and pounded his head, then in desperation crossed himself and prayed, “Oh God, please let him be alright…Please God, don’t let him suffer. _Gospode Isuse Hriste, Sine Božiji, pomiluj me grešnog_. _Gospode Isuse Hriste..._ ”

…

The next day, Nick ate the whole bowl of soup and didn’t mix up languages even once. _‘I guess prayer worked?’_ Petar thought hopefully, trying to get the older man to continue resting, despite his protests. Nick wanted to get up and go to the living room. “I’m awake and alert. It’s boring lying here in the dark. It’s beyond boring. It’s torture. Can’t we just watch some TV for a little bit?” Petar shook his head, “No, the doctor said no TV. Not for a few days anyway. Come on, I’ll…um, I’ll read to you. Just stay in bed, okay?” The older man reluctantly did what he was told, so Petar got out one of the free eBooks he had stored on his phone and started to read aloud,

“There once reigned in a town called Alba in Italy a king whose name was Numitor. He had a brother called Amulius, who was a proud and wicked man, and could not bear that his elder brother should be king over him. So Amulius plotted against his brother. He got together a number of men who were as bad and cruel as himself, and they attacked Numitor and drove him from his throne, and-“

Nick broke in, “-made Amulius king in his stead. They took the sons of Numitor, and his daughter Rhea Silvia, and killed them. Then Amulius seized the two little sons of Rhea Silvia, who were still only babies; he gave them to his soldiers, and told them to throw the poor little boys into the River Tiber.” He yawned, seemingly bored. “I’ve read this one before. Wouldn’t you rather watch TV?”

Petar was taken aback. _‘Did he recite it from memory? What the hell is going on?’_ He stewed in his thoughts for a moment, then finally asked, “Nick, when did you read this story?” The older man paused for a long moment, suddenly looking uncomfortable. He muttered evasively, “What? I don’t know, a long time ago.” The younger man sat quietly for a moment, uncertain whether what was happening was even real or not. _‘Am I dreaming?’_ he mused, only to be interrupted by Nick’s insistence that he needed his phone. “I want to call, uh, to call my doctor. In America.”

Petar quickly got to his feet and got Nick’s phone for him. “That’s a good idea. Here you go.” After an awkward moment, Nick looked up at him and said plainly, “I’d like to be alone.” The younger man furrowed his brow, concerned by his relative’s unusual behavior. “Please, leave!” The older man’s insistence startled him, and he backed away from the bed. “Sorry,” he muttered, not wanting to upset the man, then left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

…

Nikola dialed the one number he had memorized and let out a sigh of relief when a low female voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Helen, I’m in trouble.”

“When are you not? What is it this time?”

“I got hurt. Uh, a head injury. It was pretty bad I think.”

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Someone threw a rock. It knocked me off my feet. I was out thirty minutes or so.”

“Have you gone to the hospital?”

“Yes. No clots. Told me to go home and rest…but I’m having difficulty…”

“With what?”

“I…I’m having a hard time keeping my story straight…”

“What? You mean lying, is that it? Is this poetic justice, perhaps?”

Nikola huffed angrily, “Give me a break Helen! I’m here with family and can’t exactly tell them who I am! What should I do?”

Helen sighed and asked follow up questions, “Where did the rock hit you?”

“In the back of the head. There was some blood…”

“God, what did you do to deserve that?”

“I don’t want to get into that. Just tell me what to do.”

“The doctors there are right. There’s not much else you can do but rest. A loosening of inhibitions, confusion and confabulation can result from the type of injury you’ve had. Actually, confabulation is something you’ve always had in my opinion…”

“What? You mean misremembering things?”

“Uh huh. You used to lie without lying sometimes, when we first met. Said all kinds of impossible things…but don’t worry about it. You hardly do it anymore. I always check all your claims now and they’re true more often than not.”

“Huh…actually, that could be a solution to my problem.”

“Adding to your web of deception Nikola? Go easy on your relatives, okay? Especially if they’re taking care of you right now.”

“Yeah, I am. Thanks…” He cleared his throat awkwardly then muttered, “Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

Helen murmured in assent, “Yes, I-please, don’t forget that I care about you. You can call me any time.”

“Thanks Helen. That means a lot to me. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Nikola hung up then placed his phone on the nightstand. Figuring out what to say to Petar, how to give him the impression that he was just mixed up due to the head injury, it was giving him a headache. Maybe it would be best to just roll with it and act confused and anxious when questioned. “Whatever...” he muttered to himself as he lay back down. “My story is unbelievable anyhow.”

…

“Nick? How’s your head feeling?” Petar poked his head in his cousin’s bedroom, holding a glass of water and some pain killers. The older man was sitting up against the headboard with a morose look on his face. “Did you bring it? I need them.” The younger man quickly produced the pills and handed him the water. The engineer swallowed them with palpable relief. “Okay, I want to get out of this room now. Give me your hand.” Petar reluctantly helped him to his feet. It had only been six days of bed rest, but the older man had been getting increasingly agitated.

His slender legs seemed a bit wobbly, but he waved away any assistance, then made his way slowly to the living room and slumped back onto the couch. “Where’s the changer?” he muttered, then smiled faintly when Petar walked over to turn the TV on. “What an antique. I haven’t seen one like that since the ‘70’s.” Petar looked back at him and cocked his head, puzzled by his statement. Nick must have been born in the early eighties, unless he was older than he appeared. “You look cute that way.” The older man laughed and shot him a winning smile. He returned it uncertainly, then turned the dial with a click, until he found something interesting.

“The She-Butterfly is playing. It’s our first horror movie. You should see it.” The two men sat next to each other on the couch, raptly watching the bucolic scene. “Petar Božović! Wow, he looks so young here. Did he do this before the movie about Tesla?” Petar nodded, amused by his cousin’s enthusiasm. Nick looked troubled when the village men brought a black horse to a ravine and started arguing over how to get it to lead them to the grave. “Oh, it’s a vampire movie...” he muttered, looking disappointed as the group started digging up the coffin. The younger man tried to stand up for his culture. “Give it a chance. It’s really good, traditional you know, not that Dracula crap.”

Nick scoffed, “Old doesn’t mean true. Vampires aren’t really like-” he abruptly stopped himself, looking startled, then slowly went on, “Uh, I mean, it’s all crazy talk. Butterflies flying out of coffins, hawthorn stakes, Sava Savanović. It’s all just fairy tales.” He quieted down as the men failed to catch the white butterfly that represented the soul of the undead then gave up and walked home. “This bunch don’t know what they’re doing...” he muttered to himself.

Petar sighed annoyed by the running commentary. “Alright, let’s find something else then!” He got up and turned the dial some more but couldn’t find anything interesting. Giving up he left it on a football game. “Ah, god! I’d rather lie in the dark than watch this crap!” Petar hung his head with exasperation. He was starting to think this was going to be a long day.


	6. Chapter 6

After nine days, the scalp wound had fully healed, though there was a small scar. Nick was very displeased at the idea of having a bald streak on the back of his head. Petar tried telling him is was only a thin line a few centimeters long, but it didn’t seem to make much difference. The man was becoming increasingly exasperating, due to his inability to concentrate without getting a headache.

“How am I supposed to work if I can’t visualize anything for more than five minutes?! How long is this going to last?” The older man was pacing and ranting, unwilling or unable to approach the situation calmly. Petar sighed, “Well, you’re obviously physically recovered. Why don’t we get back to training? It’ll get your mind off things, and exercise is supposed to help, isn’t it?” The American glared at him anxiously. “I don’t like the idea of running into those guys again...” he muttered, looking down and shuffling his feet. Petar didn’t like the idea of that either but didn’t see that they had much choice. “We can’t hide inside forever. Maybe they’ll think twice after that beating you gave them.” Nick barked out a bitter laugh. “Ha! I wish we’d crippled them, those fucking dogs.” He leaned back against the wall and looked Petar over. “You look like shit. Taking care of me...it was hard, huh?” The younger man smiled softly and shook his head, “No, it’s nothing. Besides, I owe you.”

The svelte older man approached and held out his hand. Petar took it, enjoying the comforting feeling as his cousin pulled him in for a hug and spoke softly in his ear, “That’s fine. But...why don’t we move to Belgrade? A new town, no reputation...it’s got to be better than this, right?” Petar turned to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, you...you don’t mind paying?” Nick smiled broadly, “God, of course not. Here, I’ll even beg you for a gym membership. One with a pool. Please Petar, can’t we workout indoors, instead of in the dirt and snow? It would help me get those abs you keep asking for...” The young man chuckled, “Let’s get some bulk first. Right now, if you turn sideways, you’ll disappear.”

…

“ _Beograd!_ I love it!” Petar smiled at his cousin’s enthusiasm. He had to admit that it was great to be in the capital. Nick insisted on going to Old Belgrade to walk on the cobblestone streets amid the graceful buildings. The elegance of the old city at the confluence of two rivers, the Danube and the Sava, made for an extremely picturesque stroll. The athletic young man nearly ran into the taller man’s back when he abruptly stopped walking to look at a custom tailoring shop. The window display of mannequins in finely made suits seemed of particular interest to him. “Did you want to have a suit made?” Petar asked with a smile as the older man led him through the front door.

The young man watched shyly as his rich cousin had his measurements taken, then chose two swatches of wool gabardine cloth, one in navy blue and another in charcoal grey. The casual aplomb with which his cousin produced a Black Card made him realize how much of himself his cousin had been hiding. Intoxicated with the scent of money, the tailor asked if Petar would be getting a suit as well and the young man froze when Nick turned to him with a speculative air. “Do you want one?” he asked, running his steel gray eyes over his wide shoulders and trim hips. “Uh, no thanks...” he managed to choke out, totally unable to imagine wearing such a thing. The slender man smirked and shrugged casually. “Well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”

They left the shop and stopped at a fashionable café. Nick seemed to feel there was no need to economize, now that they were in a nice part of town. “Get whatever you want! Let’s have a good time.” The older man grinned at him over the gilt letters of the pure white menu. Petar smiled back nervously, not sure what to get. “Steak would be nice...” he muttered, looking at the prices to find the cheapest option. Apparently his cousin had other ideas. “Filet mignon would be great! With a nice Châteauneuf...sound good?” The younger man furrowed his brow anxiously, “Wine? Uh, sure thing.”

The waiter was attentive and polite, a far cry from their experience back in Niš. Petar wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was unused to being treated so well or having such luxuries. He was starting to regret not taking Nick up on his offer to get him better clothes, feeling self-conscious in his sweatpants and scuffed sneakers. Somehow the older man wore that tracksuit with supreme confidence. _‘God, is that what it feels like to be that rich? He could be naked and still act like a prince.’_ The younger man couldn’t help but be impressed and somewhat aroused. _‘If I was his...If he wanted me around...Could this just become normal life?’_ Petar realized that he was considering how to become Nick’s lover for financial reasons but couldn’t hold it against himself. After all, his cousin was kind, handsome, a great catch for many reasons. Being rich was incidental, right? But very, very hot.

…

Nikola stared raptly as Petar did some front incline dumbell raises on the bench they’d set up in the living room of the new apartment. Shirtless, every muscle tensed, his creamy skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. The older man liked the hairless look that Petar’s vanity demanded. The professional waxing had been rather amusing, but he had to admit, it made every muscle pop. He looked huge.

Aroused enough to make a move, Nikola got an idea. “Say, did you wrestle in school as well as gymnastics?” The younger man glanced up, huffing slightly as he lifted the heavy weights again. “Uh, a little. That guy from the park, he used to love shoving my face in the mat.” Nikola imagined that with a dirty little smile. “I was the best in my vil-uh, neighborhood. Are you up for a friendly match?” Petar put down the weights with a grin. “You know, Lazar was really good, and I could give him a run for his money...I really don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into. Old man.” Nikola laughed delighted by the tough guy speech, “Come on! Give it your best shot. Experience will beat youth any day!”

They moved to the center of the spacious room and got into position. Nikola watched his opponent carefully, anticipating the single leg attack moments before it occurred. Those thick arms wrapped around his slim thigh, attempting to lift him. He quickly countered by grabbing a wide shoulder and sliding his attacker around his hip. Changing levels, he looped his long arms through Petar’s legs, going for a crotch hold to try and roll the younger man onto his side. Petar neatly avoided the attempted cradle and broke away from Nikola’s grip. After repositioning themselves, Petar rushed him, trying to take him down. Nikola threw his legs back in a sprawl, pushing the young man’s head down with his hips. Once on top of him on the ground he tried to control him by grabbing his knees but got distracted by the feeling of Petar’s face rubbing against his groin. He was half hard already, and the stimulation was enough for him to become fully erect. “Shit...” he yelped out as Petar bucked upward to knock him off balance then pulled an ankle pick on him, taking him to the floor with a thud.

The gymnast’s deep-set eyes swept over his supine body. Looming over him, the normally sweet young man looked incredibly intimidating. Nikola lay there passively, letting Petar get a good look at the tent in the front of his pants, then met his eyes and licked his lips. That seemed to drive the young man to action. He stepped over the slim form on the floor and sat lightly on that narrow chest, pinning his shoulders to the ground with his knees. The inventor thought he would die of excitement. The weight of Petar’s body was constricting his breathing, trapping him under his thick thighs. His wide legged shorts had rucked up and with every shallow breath Nikola could smell the musky scent of the athlete’s balls. He didn’t realize he could get any harder, but with a throbbing ache he did. Petar’s abs and chest loomed over him like a tower. “Oh God...what do you want to do to me?” he wheezed, eager to be verbally as well as physically dominated.

The young man blushed and said softly, “I-I want to fuck your mouth-” Nikola groaned, wishing he could touch his own cock but was helplessly pinned. “Yes, make me.” Petar’s eyes were shadowed by his strong brow, unreadable as they looked down on the lustful man beneath him. With an awkward cough, the kneeling youth asked, “Are you...I mean, have you been tested?” Nikola slowly shook his head, worried that Petar would stop and get off of him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex...” he admitted, then as an afterthought he reciprocated the question, “What about you?” The athlete reluctantly replied, “I’m a virgin.” Nikola’s eyes glistened as he panted, “Jack off and come on my face.” The young man reached for the elastic waistband of his shorts and slowly pulled it down...

…

‘ _He looks good in that suit. Like a fucking prince.’_ Petar tried not to stare, hyperaware of the tailor putting the finishing touches on his dark navy creation. As Nick finished paying the balance of his bill, Petar stared at the floor running the image of his smartly dressed lover though his mind. He imagined those sharp features arranged in a slick and dirty smile, looking down on him as he unzipped his fly...or better yet, he thought about the opposite. The fantasy of being hired to be Nick’s personal trainer, then ordering his new boss to get on his knees, wrinkling those crisp wool trousers. He’d rudely whip out his dick to land with a thwack on the submissive man’s face. Watching his eyes flutter, he would rub himself all over his eyes, his cheeks, then thrust into that slightly too wide mouth, lightly choking him on his hard length. Before he could replay his memory of shooting his load over Nick’s face the man in question called for him. “Hey, you ready?” Petar glanced up making sure the tailor was nowhere to be seen then adjusted his erection so that it was pinned to his belly with the waistband of his track pants. “Yeah, sure.” Confident he wouldn’t be discovered he got up and followed the older man out of the shop.

After a couple dozen steps Nick stopped him with a grin. “Here. Go buy yourself something nice. New shoes, clothes, whatever. That’s the last of my cash, so I have to go to the bank. You know how long the line is. And then, I was planning to drop by the clinic. You know for what.” He smirked naughtily as Petar blushed, then he suggested, “Since I’ll be gone all day, let’s just meet back at the apartment later, okay?” Petar shook his head, embarrassed to be the recipient of such unearned largess. “I can’t repay you-” The older man cut him off sternly, “You’ve repaid me enough, looking after me. And stop acting like you owe me anything. You’re my family and I want to take care of you.” He laid his hands on Petar’s shoulders, gently squeezing them, then pulled him close and kissed him on each cheek. “Go on. Try to have some fun.” he shot over his shoulder as his long legs took him toward the city center and the bank. The gymnast watched his cousin go with a smile, appreciating how the well-tailored trousers showed the outline of the curve of the older man’s small buttocks and the back of his lean thighs.

Deciding that he could use some new pants of his own, he walked briskly to a midrange casual clothing shop. Picking out some simple slacks and button downs, he debated whether to get a sweater or a jacket. A rich brown V-neck sweater caught his eye and he rubbed the fabric between his fingers. It was finely made and very soft. He read the label on the collar, “Cashmere...” then reached inside the neck for the tag and raised a brow at the high figure. “Fuck me, is it spun from gold?!” A giggle from behind him startled him. The shop girl gave him a practiced smile and said flirtatiously, “On a handsome guy like you, trust me, it’s worth it! Go on, try it on!” Petar smiled politely at her but protested, “It’s really too much-” “It can’t hurt just to see what you’d look like in it! Think how your girlfriend will react when she sees you dressed so nice!” Petar sighed, but found himself wavering. ‘ _What would Nick think?’_ Imagining the older man’s appraising eyes glinting with attraction and approval proved to be too much for his resolve. “Alright. Where’s the changing room?”

...

Leaving the clothing store with considerably lighter pockets, but dressed in his new outfit, he felt almost giddy. _‘Nick’s going to be so happy! I wonder if he’ll want to go down on me tonight?’_ The young man’s smile felt too broad for his face as he strolled cheerfully through Belgrade. The weather was still cold, but starting to show signs of spring. He still had nearly half a year of training before the competition which was more than enough given his greatly changed circumstances. Diet was a breeze now that he had somewhere to cook, weight training was giving him better and faster results than working on the bars alone ever could, and it was easy to sleep well at night in his own warm bedroom. He felt he really had a good chance of winning the two-thousand-dollar prize. ‘ _Maybe afterward I should take Nick out and treat him to dinner for a change.’_ He imagined whisking the check away from the older man and holding it out of reach playfully. The pride in his steel gray eyes as his poor little cousin was finally able to take care of _him_. Petar sighed, wondering if it would ever come true. ‘ _It can’t come soon enough...’_ he mused pensively, hoping his cousin would be willing to wait.

A sign in one of the windows of a stately building with four Corinthian columns caught his eye. “Nikola Tesla Museum...Whoa, how cool!” He took the stairs two at a time, as excited as an overgrown boy. “How much is admission?” he demanded at the counter, worried he had already spent too much money and wouldn’t be able to enter. Luckily, he still had just enough, though he would be walking back to the apartment rather than taking the bus. But it was no big loss, not when given the opportunity to see the artifacts of his illustrious ancestor’s life.

…

Nikola had just made his withdrawal when someone pinged his phone. Looking at the screen he saw Petar had sent him a picture of an old black and white photo along with the message: _Oh my god, he looks just like you!_ Nikola sighed and rolled his eyes. He’d been waiting for the inevitable comparison to his old photos. The one Petar had chosen was from before he had grown his mustache. The callow youth with the slicked back hair and sad looking eyes made him glad not to be young anymore. “What an awful time...” he muttered, thinking back on the intense mental illness he’d suffered at that age. His only relief had been reading and drinking, but he’d been rotting away in his bed, until Antal pulled him out of it. He experienced a moment of regret that his Hungarian friend had never been willing to be photographed. That ugly face with the body of a Greek god was something only Nikola remembered. The thought made him terribly sad. _‘Who will remember you so lovingly after I am dead?’_ Nikola put his phone away and made his way out of the bank and toward the low-cost clinic, trying to put the thought of his long dead lover to rest.


	7. Chapter 7

Petar seemed a little pensive during dinner but Nikola ascribed it to suspense over the test results. The older man cleared the table then presented his cousin with the printout. “Clean as a whistle,” he singsonged playfully, then approached the seated man, placing his knee between the younger man’s legs. He looked down on the square jawed masculine face and gently took his chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head back. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked softly, letting the younger man decide how he wanted to proceed. Petar licked his lips nervously then nodded once decisively.

Nikola swooped down on him like a peregrine falcon, seizing his lips with his own passionately. With a thrust of his tongue he tasted his mouth, savoring the thrilling sensation of slipping past his teeth. Their tongues slid across each other and Petar moaned, breaking out of his still passivity to surge to his feet. Letting himself be grabbed by his narrow hips and crushed to his young cousin’s massive frame, Nikola broke away from the kiss long enough to bark out, “I want your cock down my throat, now.” Petar laughed lowly, the masculine depths of his voice making Nikola weak in the knees. “Your wish is my command, my prince.” With that he let the slender frame sink to the floor before him and unzipped his fly, “Here, little _pasivan_. Here it is just for you...”

…

Nikola jumped up and grabbed the horizontal bar. Tucking his knees to his chest he pulled the bar toward himself and leaned back, threading his feet neatly through the space between his arms until his shoulders reached their maximum rotation, then neatly reversed it. Skin the cat was a good warm up for his real ambition. He tucked his legs under the bar once more until his body was hanging under the bar, arms behind his back, then gradually straightened his legs. His body shook with tension as he extended his legs, first wide apart, then gradually closing them together into what he hoped was decent back lever. Holding the pose for a few seconds, he bent his legs and carefully loosened the tension in his shoulders, hung from the high bar for a moment, then let go and dropped to his feet and shook out his arms.

“Not bad Nick! You’ve made a lot of progress in a short time.” Nikola looked up at his young cousin who was watching him appreciatively from several feet away. “Thanks. I still don’t have the front lever though.” Petar waved away his concerns and handed him his water bottle. “How is the tucked planche coming? Can I see your frog stand going into it?” Nikola chugged the water then sighed heavily, “Just a sec...I’m tired...” Petar smirked, running his blue gray eyes over the slender man, lingering on his now visibly lean abs. The tight little muscles contracted as his skinny cousin panted.

“You’re sweating old man. Here, let me show you how it’s done.” He led Nikola over to the parallettes, a set of parallel bars suspended about a foot off the ground on wooden blocks. He bent over and gripped them firmly. Balancing on his hands, he rocked forward, spreading his legs and placing each of his knees on his forearms, letting his feet leave the ground. Holding the frog stand for a moment, he then closed his legs, sliding his knees over his arms until they were tucked into his chest, his weight suspended entirely by his arms.

“God, you’re rock solid. You make it look so easy.” Nikola muttered admiring the ease with which his cousin straightened his waist and extended his legs straight back into a full planche. The nineteen-year-old shot him a grin and did a few planche pushups just to show off a little. “Alright, alright! Quit hogging the bars. It’s my turn.” As the svelte inventor managed to hold the tucked planche for a few shaky seconds, he heard some female voices exclaim excitedly, “You guys are training really hard! Are you getting ready for a competition?”

Getting to his feet, he found two slender girls had come up to Petar and were shooting him their best flirtatious smiles. They quickly turned to him, politely introducing themselves as Jelisaveta and Andrijana. Glancing around the gym surreptitiously, Nikola realized that there were several people watching the conversation and adjusted appropriately. Moving closer to the teenaged blonde he looked her boldly up and down and said, “Yes, my cousin is training for the street workout competition. I’m just here for the moral support. What about you ladies, are you here often?”

The blonde giggled nervously at his blatant interest and backed toward her brunette friend a bit. “Uh, we just come to work on our rhythmic gymnastics routine...” The other girl furrowed her brow, disgruntled at being ogled by the wrong guy, though she seemed a bit more confident despite her youth. “Yes, we thought we’d come introduce ourselves. What’s your name?” Nikola put out his hand with his most charming smile, “Nick.” The girls shook his hand perfunctorily then turned eagerly toward Petar who frowned lightly and simply said, “Petar. Sorry Jelisaveta, Andrijana, we have to get going. It was nice meeting you though.” He grabbed his bag and took off, leaving Nikola behind to shrug ruefully at the disappointed girls and trail behind him out the doors of the gym.

Once they were half a block away the younger man snapped, “What the hell was that?!” Nikola played dumb, “What? They seemed like nice girls.” Petar walked faster, body tense with anger. “You _know_ what!” “Petar, you’re making a scene-” “I don’t fucking care!” The younger man sniffled, horrified to feel angry tears welling in his eyes. He blinked them away rapidly, trying to just focus on walking home. “Come on _moj brat,_ it was nothing...” The older man started to realize his words were just digging himself deeper and finally said, “We’ll talk about it at the apartment, okay?” Petar nodded sharply and the two men walked silently home.

…

Despite the nominal privacy of the apartment, they spoke in hushed tones not wanting to be overheard arguing by any neighbors. “Please Petar, you know we have to keep it quiet about us. By flirting with girls inappropriately...no one’s going to suspect-” “What if they were interested? Would you be fucking that blonde right now, if she asked you to?” The older man shook his head and rolled his eyes, “She wasn’t going to go for me, we both know that, and last I checked, most women aren’t that into an older guy leering at them like he’s only got one thing on his mind.”

Petar huffed, “It doesn’t even matter! First of all, some women are interested and second, how could you come on to them right in front of me?” Dropping his voice to a hissing whisper he said, “You’re gay! And we’re...we are a couple, right?” Nick was brought up short, seeming startled by the gymnast’s words. “Uh, well, I guess I’m bisexual or whatever you want to call it...and, uh, I hadn’t really thought about us, um, being a couple per se...”

The younger man felt a weight gathering in the center of his chest. Through the lump in his throat he croaked, “That’s kind of a problem, you know, because...because I love-” “You don’t know that yet.” The older man cut him off harshly and turned away, refusing to meet his eyes. “You’re young. I’m your first. You don’t have anything to compare it to.” Petar felt a swirling sense of panic and spoke desperately, “Please! Believe me! I-I know how I feel!” The older man shook his head and got out of his chair, as though ready to leave the room.

Striding rapidly over to him, Petar seized him by the shoulder and turned him forcibly to face him. “Don’t go! Please, I want, just give me a chance to show you-” Nick had become very still when Petar put his hands on him and asked very calmly, “Are you going to let me go now?” The young man realized what he’d done and pulled his hands off the older man like he was being burned, “Fuck! I’m sorry. Don’t-just don’t be upset...” Nick stood there before him for a long, silent moment, then relaxed with a soft sigh, “Okay. Let’s just, take it slow, alright? Just, give me some time-” “Really?” the young man interrupted eagerly, then quieted again at his cousin’s raised brow. “Sorry.”

The older man shook his head, accepting his apology, “It’s fine. Everything will be fine. Just remember, we will always be family, no matter whatever else changes between us. Okay?” Petar nodded, trying to hold fast to the reassurance. He wouldn’t lose Nick, even if his cousin never loved him back the same way. He couldn’t bear it if he lost him. Whether he could bear not being loved in return, he would just have to find out.

...

Over the next few days, Nick seemed to be much more interested in learning more about his personal history. Petar took it as a good sign. Hopefully his cousin was trying to figure out if they were compatible enough to have a serious relationship. It was also very encouraging that he seemed willing to reciprocate and answer Petar’s questions in return. So far today he had learned that Nick had been a math prodigy and was fluent in a dozen languages, and in exchange he told him that his favorite academic subjects in school had been Latin and History. Nick threw out some very grammatically poor Latin much to the younger man’s amusement. He seemed pleased to be corrected and asked him if he studied any other languages.

“I studied English at first but had a hard time with anything besides reading. I switched to German and studied that for several years, but I never really learned to speak fluently. I guess the modern communicative approach gave me a lot of trouble. The grammar-translation method used for Latin just worked so much better for me. I guess there wasn’t a feeling of social pressure to distract me. Did you have weaknesses in school too, or did everything come easy to you?”

The older man thought for a moment then said carefully, “We had to do some drawing...art class. I’m left-handed and kept smudging the picture so I got really poor marks. Physical education, I was just terrible for the longest time. But the school was understanding that I had a weak constitution. Not so much the other students. It made me feel pretty bad about myself as a kid.” Petar nodded, understanding the older man’s fascination with athleticism a little better. “I know what you mean. I’ve always been short for my age and got pushed around a lot because of it. That really motivated me to get stronger. When I started gymnastics, I just loved the feeling of power with every new skill I learned. It really helped me feel less...well, I stopped feeling inferior, and I also felt less lonely.”

The older man smiled mischievously and stepped right into Petar’s personal space, bringing them nearly chest to chest. “Yes, I think your _power_ will definitely end any loneliness.” The gymnast gently took the slender man by the arms and pushed him away. He smiled to soften the rejection and said, “I’m not in the mood.” Nick was taken aback momentarily but recovered enough to accept it. “Alright. Did you want to...I mean, I’d...” He looked abashed as he finally came out and asked for what he wanted. “Could we just cuddle?” The muscular young man smiled so broadly his cheeks hurt. “Of course! Come here.” He pulled the older man toward the living room couch and tucked him under a brawny arm. “Why don’t we watch some TV? Now that you have cable, there’s got to be something you’d like.”

After fooling around with the remote for a bit Nick settled on Al Jazeera Balkans to watch the news. The usual reporting on Serbia’s political problems: someone or other was being indicted for war crimes, a diplomatic meeting with Kosovo had fallen through, democracy looked threatened as so-and-so's political opposition decided to boycott the election. Then finally, something interesting.

“That bitch prime minister should shut her fucking mouth!” Petar barked bitterly as Ana Brnabić gave a statement on the issue of LGBTQ rights in Serbia and expressed her hope to attend this summer’s Pride parade. Nick seemed mystified by the vitriol. “What’s the problem? She wants to support the parade-” “She’s a fucking hypocrite! Living with her partner and child while telling every other gay person in Serbia they can just get fucked until the standard of living improves!”

The older man hummed ruefully, “She’s probably right that most people aren’t going to change their opinions until they have more money.” Petar couldn’t believe what he was hearing and pulled away from his lover, glaring at him in consternation. “In America they have anti-discrimination laws-” “Yeah, well this isn’t America, and technically Serbia has the same kind of laws anyway, it’s just people aren’t ready-” “They have to be educated-” “Petar, it will take time. You know that fifty percent of the populace think homosexuality is a disease-” “The medical establishment overturned that-” “Yes, yes, I know. But people still believe it and then there’s the twenty five percent that think gay relations should be a crime-” Petar growled, “So what, you think we should just bow to their fucking prejudices?! It would be better to shove it in their faces until they’re forced to accept it!”   
  


Nikola sighed and closed his eyes, forcing himself not to roll them in visible derision, then shook his head and said, “That’s just your _inat_ talking and you know it. Don’t let it get you beaten up or killed, okay?” The Serbian spirit of defiance toward oppression often got his people in over their heads, though sometimes it made them rise to the occasion, outshine competitors and defeat enemies. God knows his own defiance of his college professor drove him to invent his electric motor, but it had also got him in a lot of financial trouble later in life...

“If I went to the Pride parade would you be angry?” Petar asked, his brow furrowed with worry. Nikola scooted closer and pressed his side against his young cousin’s chest, cocked his head and looked him deeply in the eyes. “Please, don’t go. If you were hurt...I don’t know what I would do...” He gently took him by the jaw and kissed him on the lips. “You’re precious to me,” he whispered and embraced the young man, feeling the muscular body relax against his own. The deep baritone rumbled pleasantly, “I am? You’d miss me if I was gone?”

Nikola frowned sadly and whispered in his ear, “Of course I would. You’re my family.” Petar took him by the back of the neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nikola thrilled at the feeling of being held by such large, strong hands, the heavy body pressing him against the couch, making him feel overwhelmed and small. He groaned as the younger man caressed his chest and stomach, making his way down to rest between his narrow thighs. “You’re hard for me. I bet you want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

The thought of Petar pulling his pants off and inserting himself between his thighs, the thick cock seeking entrance into the most private part of his body flashed through Nikola’s mind. Anxiety bloomed in his gut as the muscular gymnast made a move toward doing so and he demurred, “I-let me jack you off.” He pushed at the wide chest, getting his cousin to sit back, then pulled down the waistband of the young man’s shorts. An eager hand did the same for his trousers, hurriedly unbuttoning and tugging at the zipper until his long erection was freed. The gentle mutual stroking was enjoyable in a relaxing way, and he grinned at the young man next to him. The friendly smile he got in return brought back the pleasant memory of doing the same activity with his old friend Antal.

The homely Hungarian had caught on to a young Nikola ogling him every day at the gymnasium, admiring the phenomenal power of his arms and chest as he worked out on the rings. One day after a particularly impressive performance of the Maltese Cross, Antal came up and introduced himself. Nikola remembered feeling so flattered that this embodiment of classical manhood wanted to be his friend. A few weeks of lively conversations at the cafe, long walks in the park and chess games in the botanical gardens revealed a lively mind with quick intelligence behind his bright sky-blue eyes.

Nikola was finding himself charmed by the outgoing older man, when one day the Hungarian said, “You’re so handsome Nikola, yet I never see you give girls so much as a glance. I know you say you’re too busy studying and working, but surely you feel the need…” Nikola had laughed nervously, “Well, sometimes, but I can’t…I don’t want to get married.” The quirk of Antal’s full mouth under a bristly blonde mustache gave away his mischievous streak as he chuckled lowly then said simply, “There’s no need for that. I can help you out if you’ll do the same for me…” After that, began his initiation in the realm of everything carnal, a world that Antal was intimately and long familiar with.

Nikola gasped softly, his reminiscence broken by his immanent orgasm. His young lover encouraged him, “Yes, come for me. Come all over yourself for me.” The intensity of his gaze pierced the older man’s mind as he helplessly spasmed, letting Petar see his face as his mouth dropped open in a low moan. His hand went slack on the thick cock as he sat there boneless after his orgasm, letting Petar grasp his hand in his own larger one and pump it around his dick. After a few moments, he watched lazily as the younger man came with a few grunts, the thick white sperm shooting in the air to land on Nikola’s forearm and wrist.

“God, you’re virile. You could impregnate a thousand women with that load.” The inventor muttered, as he gingerly let go of the hot flesh, looking around for something to wipe up the slimy mess. “I’d rather impregnate you.” The younger man joked as Nikola got up to get a towel. The older man shook his head, feeling a bit disgusting. As he left the room, he called over his shoulder, “I’m taking a shower. Come get me when lunch is ready, okay?”

…

Petar was annoyed by the perfunctory order to basically go make a sandwich but went to the kitchen anyway. “I guess he didn’t like that joke...” he muttered as he opened the bread box. They were out of bread. With a sigh he took a look in the refrigerator. Yogurt, some leftover white rice, a container of grilled chicken...Petar quickly threw something together and zapped it in the microwave with some broccoli. He set it on the table then went back for two water glasses. Opening the freezer, he got a couple ice cubes for Nick’s glass, then filled it with filtered water. Placing it next to his plate, he walked over to the bathroom and tapped on the door.

“Hey, come have lunch.” The shower turned off and he heard faintly through the door, “Be right there.” Heading back to the table, he sat awkwardly, waiting for the older main to join him. After what seemed like forever, the American came out, freshly scrubbed, hair combed back and dressed impeccably. “You didn’t have to get dressed just for lunch...” Petar commented, picking up his fork as his cousin sat down across from him.

“I like feeling clean when I eat.” The older man said primly, then glared at his plate. “Chicken again. Wonderful.” he said sarcastically, picking at it with his fork, then froze and looked at the utensil suspiciously. “You did wash your hands before cooking, didn’t you?” Feeling like a scolded child, Petar narrowed his eyes and deliberately lied, “Yes! God, what’s up with you today?! Just eat your food.” Seeming satisfied with his answer, Nick finally started eating, though he nibbled like a bird.

The gymnast tried making small talk, to no avail. “The weather is finally warming up. Maybe you’d like to go see Mount Avala, take a hike...or go to the island resort on the Sava...hmm, maybe it’s still too cold to swim...How about seeing the flowers bloom at Jevremovac Botanical Gardens?” The older man was ignoring him, looking at his phone. Craning his neck, Petar looked at the screen of the smartphone, wondering what could be so engrossing that the man couldn’t be polite for one minute. Nick was startled and quickly put the phone away but not before Petar read the message:

_Helen: They’re on to you. I’m doing the best I can to divert attention, but you should really come home._

“Oh my god, what the hell is that?!” The older man’s eyes widened, a look of guilty fear on his face. “Nothing! I can, uh, I can explain-” Petar jumped out of his chair, unable to contain himself. “Who’s this Helen woman and what is she doing texting you?!” The older man got out of his chair and physically removed himself from arm’s reach while saying, “She’s my friend back in America, that’s all!” Realizing that he was frightening his cousin, Petar folded his arms and stood quietly for a moment, thinking over the story he was being told. Finally, he said bluntly, “It sounds like you live with her. Did you fuck her?”

…


	8. Chapter 8

Nikola cursed himself for being so careless. But it couldn’t really be helped, the message had come out of nowhere, and it wasn’t like he could have reacted any faster. Now it was time for damage control. Thinking fast, he tried to come up with a story that was close enough to the truth to be convincing. “I _used_ to live with her. Remember I said I wanted to get married? That was her, but she doesn’t want commitment-” “This is her?! The woman you were going to marry? So, you did fuck her!” Nikola shook his head and tried to placate his jealous lover. “Well yes, but it was only when she felt like it. She and I, uh, worked together, I fell in love with her and she gave me the run around, I asked to marry her, she shot me down in front of everyone, and now I’m here.”

His hope that Petar wouldn’t ask about the other part of the message was dashed when the athlete demanded, “What’d she mean ‘they’re on to you’? Exactly what kind of work were you doing together?” Knowing that he was alluding to crime, the inventor couldn’t figure out what to say, so he just made up something off the top of his head. “I’m supposed to be working in New York on an engineering project, but I took off for Serbia instead. I wasn’t really planning on staying so long. They’re probably going to fire me for not producing any designs yet.”

The younger man got a devastated look on his face, then bit the bullet, “Are you going to go back?” Nikola shook his head and approached his cousin cautiously, “No, no. Let them fire me. I can always find more work. And it’s probably bullshit anyway. Helen is just trying to keep me in her orbit without actually giving me anything, the way she always does.” Petar looked so young and vulnerable as he asked, “You’re finished with her, right?” Nikola felt sorry for his cousin, but at the same time was increasingly troubled by the insecurity and jealousy their relationship was creating. With a sigh he said honestly, “I just want to get on with living my life instead of wasting it waiting for her to love me back. Please, just forget about her. God knows that’s all I’m trying to do.” The young man seemed to accept his sincerity, nodded and relaxed. They sat back down and finished their lunch in silence, both having too much on their minds to talk to each other.

…

Petar fell into bed exhausted from the day. Not only had there been that terrible argument with Nick, but training had gone poorly today. An old shoulder injury was acting up and he was still sore. He hoped that it wouldn’t set him back too much but knew he shouldn’t worry. The competition was still months away. As he lay there alone in the dark, he tried to distract himself from replaying the argument over and over in his mind, but found he was failing. Everything seemed designed to provoke another memory that stoked suspicions in his mind.

_What am I supposed to think about this Helen woman? He said he was going to marry her and she rejected him. Why is she still contacting him then? And this whole warning thing...He said it’s just another engineering project, but 24 million...How could an electrical engineer even make that kind of money? Is it even possible? What do I really know about this guy that isn’t just something he’s told me? I can’t think of anything except the genetic test..._

Petar tossed and turned, troubled by the overwhelming doubts that were flooding his mind.

_He said he’s a Serbian American, but there were those times when the way he spoke...it sounded like people in historical documentaries. He definitely speaks with an accent and some of the words are old fashioned. Then there were all the strange incidents after the concussion...It really seemed like he thought our ancestor’s life story was his own. They do look alike..._

The young man felt like his cousin’s behavior was a puzzle that he didn’t have all the pieces to.

_What do I actually know? He has too much money for his job. He speaks Serbian fluently, but strangely. Ah, that TV comment! He could be older than he says...what, maybe ten or fifteen years, but no more. He left his life in America, supposedly because of a breakup, but to leave it for Serbia? He has no family, except me. He’s a tough and vicious fighter, though he doesn’t look it. He’s secretive, very intelligent and says he can work from anywhere. He asked why I called him Nick right after the concussion...it must be an alias..._

Petar was starting to get a bad feeling. The facts of Nick’s behavior were starting to come together into a story he didn’t like.

_He’s a wanted man. He must have fled the US to hide out here, because he...because he what? Just because of me? That doesn’t make sense. He speaks enough languages that he could have gone just about anywhere in Europe. The only reason he would choose to come to Serbia...He has to be hiding from the police...from Interpol..._

The pieces seemed to snap into place.

_New York, Serbia, 24 million dollars, a false identity, older than he looks, a vicious fighter, multilingual, intelligent, proud and on the run...He’s one of the Pink Panthers, isn’t he?_

The pieces fit, though there were still some parts missing, making an incomplete but convincing picture. Nick Mandic, the false identity of a member of the notorious international gang of jewelry thieves, all of whom came from the Balkans, mainly Montenegro and Serbia. All that was left was the strange behavior during his concussion, the woman who refused to be his wife...

_THE MUSEUM! That’s it! The missing piece!_

Petar suddenly remembered the day he visited the Nikola Tesla Museum and read a display with the information that Tesla’s last remaining relative William Terbo had passed away. He had been troubled with the inconsistency with Nick’s claim that they were related to the great inventor, but the sex later that day had knocked the information right out of his mind.

_He said he was friends with a gymnast named Antal. He said he was bad at drawing because he is left-handed. He has at least one book memorized. He even looks just like the photo. What if he thinks he is Nikola Tesla? He’s said so many little things, before, during and after that concussion, it’s the only explanation for all of them. That, and I doubt this Helen woman wants to marry someone who is delusional, even if they are both in the same gang._

Petar sat up in bed and ran his hands violently through his hair. A great sense of agitation and injustice coursed through his heart.

_If he’s mentally ill...what if the gang or that woman...what if they tricked or coerced him into working for them? A person with his intelligence and talents would be a great asset. Maybe he came to Serbia to try to get out. If they’re looking for him right now and Helen is warning him of it...she must not want them to find him._

The young man started to feel a tightness in his chest as anxiety began to take over his mind.

_Being here with him is dangerous...What if they find him? Will they simply come to take him back? Will they kill him if he refuses? What might they do to me?_

Petar considered the possibility of his own murder at the hands of organized criminals. Was his relationship with ‘Nick’ worth that possibility? The man was his relative. He did pluck him up off the street. He accepted his sexuality and supported his training. All in all, he had to say that his cousin had only ever been good to him, despite his secrecy and lies. The gymnast relaxed as he came to a decision, resolving not to abandon his lover but wondering how on earth he would ever broach the topic of his real identity.


	9. Chapter 9

Nikola ignored Petar’s text messages asking where he was while he made his phone call to Helen from a private restroom at a café.

“Hello Nikola. Are you coming back soon?” Helen said, as usual getting straight to the point. “No, I just called to tell you not to text me. It’s too suspicious.” His refusal prompted a sigh of frustration. “Nikola...I’m having to create false leads for SCIU to follow because you were dumb enough to reveal your genetic code. Do you know how much of a waste of my time that is?” The inventor was surprised, “Really? My human genome should have been sufficiently different from the vampire version-” “Actually, not really, no. Your grasp of biology was always sub-par. What on earth possessed you to let SCIU take biometric data from you anyhow?” Tesla flushed with embarrassment, glad she couldn’t see him, then admitted, “Dr. Coates must have kept a genetic sample...” “Oh ew, Nikola! Well, I hope she was worth it.” “Not really, no.”

There was an awkward silence when Helen waited for the usual flirtatious comment, but it never happened. Sounding a bit put out Helen finally said, “Listen, they’ll figure out where you went eventually, then you’ll either end up in Leavenworth for all that money you stole, or you’ll have to cut a deal and work for them. Probably they’ll put you to work on the Pentagon’s directed energy weapon project for the rest of your life. The smartest thing you could do is just come back to the Sanctuary-” “And what, live underground instead? Thanks for looking out for me, but I think I’d rather just take my chances-” “How can you be so selfish?! Do you have any idea how destabilizing to the global balance of power-” “Look, I’ve got to go. Let me just live my life and make my own mistakes. I can handle myself, you know that-” “Actually, no I don’t-” He talked over her interruption, “-and besides, I’m dealing with family matters here that can’t just be abandoned whenever you get worried about the world’s political situation. And as a heads up, don’t expect me to see anymore messages or take your calls. I can’t have my family finding out about all this.”

Nikola hung up on her protests and blocked her number, aware that it wouldn’t really stop her from getting a hold of him if she wanted to but satisfied that he’d done what he could to prevent any new incidents. Quickly texting Petar back, he let him know he was getting a cake from the bakery and would be back in twenty minutes.

...

After waking to an empty apartment, Petar was frantic. The older man hadn’t taken any of his things, so at least he knew he hadn’t been abandoned to fend for himself, but he was terrified that his cousin had been abducted. He sagged with relief when his urgent texts were finally answered with the reply that his lover had just gone to the bakery down the street. “A cake...does he know it’s my birthday?” he muttered, surprised that the older man had noticed. Today was the day he turned twenty, and he still hadn’t accomplished anything noteworthy with his life. He supposed he had plenty of time but didn’t want to waste a moment of it. After all, athletes had a limited shelf life compared to intellectual occupations.

Deciding that Nick would want him to look his best if he was planning on a celebration, he took a shower, exfoliated thoroughly with a body scrub, shaved and lightly moisturized his skin with almond scented oil. Checking himself out in the mirror, he felt satisfied that his body looked in top form, then rubbed his jaw, wondering if he should get rid of the stubble shadowing his face or not. Deciding to leave it, he brushed his teeth, combed his hair and put on a bit of deodorant, despite his sure knowledge that Nick was very aroused by his natural smell. He dressed carefully in slacks, loafers, a dress shirt and that ridiculously expensive sweater. Going for the buttoned down, strait-laced look might be best for today. After all, convincing his cousin he could control himself and be respectful was important now. He could tell the older man found his jealousy most unattractive. Anxiously, he checked himself in the mirror once more and was straightening his hair when the door to the apartment opened. Trying to look casual and pleasant he greeted his cousin.

…

“Nick, you’re back! Did you find a nice cake?” The young man smiled charmingly, gesturing that he could take the package from him. Nikola handed him the box, took off his jacket and hung it up. “Yes, you like chocolate right?” he asked softly, hoping he’d made the right choice. “Of course, who doesn’t? I was surprised you remembered my birthday.” The young man unpacked the small round cake and placed it on a plate with a knife and fork. Nikola took out two little candles in the shape of a ‘2’ and a ‘0,’ stuck them in the cake, and pulled out some matches to light them. He sat down across from the young man, smiled and gestured at the little lights. “Go on. Make a wish and blow them out.”

Petar thought a second then started to say, “I wish that-” “No, no, no. If you say it aloud it won’t come true. Don’t you know that?” Nikola interrupted with a playful smile, pretty sure he knew what his cousin would wish for. The handsome athlete held his gaze intensely for a moment, then smiled back and blew out the candles. Nikola felt burned by the possessiveness in the young man’s eyes and couldn’t help but respond to the man’s polished appearance. “You look good with the stubble. Makes you look older.” he said softly, letting himself lean closer to the gorgeous creature before him. Petar pushed him a small slice of cake but kept the fork, causing the scientist to grouse, “What, am I supposed to eat it with my hands?” It became evident what he wanted him to do when he scooped up a small bite on the fork and held it before the older man’s mouth. “Go on. The only way you’re getting any of my cake is if you let me feed it to you.”

Deciding he might as well beat him at his own game, Nikola flirtatiously licked his lips and delicately took the cake in his mouth, humming with enjoyment at the sweet morsel. Petar laughed at his little show, “I know how sexy your mouth is already. Maybe, you could give me something new as a birthday gift?” Nikola swallowed and looked askance, “Oh this again...I’ve never been interested in that...” The birthday boy gasped, “You mean you’ve never done it?!” He laughed delighted, “Then we should lose our virginities together!” The older man huffed annoyed, “I don’t want to get fucked up the ass. It’s disgusting and I don’t like...I’m not...” he trailed off, unable to say it, until Petar said it for him, “You’re not effeminate, is that it?” Nikola felt embarrassed hearing him say that out loud and tried to change the subject. “Why not do something else? I’ll fuck you if you want.” Petar smirked and waved away his offer. “Maybe later. I want to talk more about why you’d think this way-” Annoyed, Nikola got up from the table and left the room with the parting shot, “Enjoy your cake by yourself then.”

…

Petar found the older man sitting up on his bed, still fully dressed, shoes on the coverlet. The young man sat on the edge of the mattress and placed his hand on a lean thigh, gradually sliding his hand up over the scratchy wool. A slender palm settled on the back of his hand and pushed him away. “I’m not in the mood.” The older man said snippily but made no move to try and get rid of him. The young Serb sighed, “Not even for a nice blow job? You do like those, right?” Nick’s stony expression softened, “Would that be a nice birthday present, my cock in your mouth?” Petar nodded eagerly, reaching for the older man’s fly. The fine wool parted, revealing dark blue silk boxer shorts. He reached inside the fly to pull out the still flaccid penis. Smiling at the little head poking out of the fabric he glanced up at the older man expectantly. With a little smirk, Nick waved at him casually to proceed.

Petar quickly bent over, took the little bit of flesh in his mouth and began sucking gently. It was his first time having a cock in his mouth and he savored the flavor and texture as it swelled between his lips. Nick didn’t hold back and let him bob his head over his hips until he dumped his load easily in his hot mouth with a sigh. Petar rolled the sour semen over his tongue, trying to get the most out of the taste of his lover. Finally, with a shudder at the bitterness, he swallowed and came up for air. “Was that good?” he asked his sexy cousin, looking up at the older man who was tucking away his spent organ. With a slow lazy blink, he replied, “It was nice. Did you like the taste?” Petar shook his head, “Not really, but I liked doing it for you.” Nick smirked at him, “Uh huh. You should make me suck your balls while you jack off. Then you should choke me with your dick and cum down my throat.” “ _Jebote,_ you have a dirty mouth! How can you say that with such a straight face?” The young athlete got up and unbuttoned his slacks, his lover’s steel gray eyes watching him.

…

Petar gritted his teeth as he overheard a feminine voice flirting with his cousin. Pushing his anger into his forty seventh pull up, he decided to try to make it to sixty before coming down and seeing the obnoxiously giggling girl. _I have to show Nick I can control myself. Just imagine he’s watching you, judging if you’re tough enough to be a gangster’s boy toy..._ The amusing fantasy helped him concentrate on his workout rather than his feelings and soon enough he reached sixty reps. His feet hit the ground with a thud as he sighed and stretched, showing off his shoulders and back, hoping his lover’s eyes would be drawn to him. When he turned around, he was pleased to find Nick watching him, and somewhat less pleased to see that Andrijana was also.

The brunette smiled at him confidently and complimented his form then asked, “When you guys are done training I was wondering if you’d like to go to the _splavovi_ with some friends. Nick told me you’re not from Belgrade, so I thought you guys really need to see our floating dance clubs. The river is beautiful in the moonlight...” Petar smiled as disarmingly as he could and said, “Thank you for the invitation and we could certainly go, but I’d be more interested in going to Club Musk, if you catch my drift.” The teen seemed shocked for a moment, then furrowed her brow. “No offense, but based on last time, your friend here doesn’t seem to share your preference...” The young man shrugged, “He’s _dvocevka._ But I don’t think he’s looking for anyone else anymore-” Nick interrupted, “No, no, I’m not looking.”

The brunette looked back and forth between the two men with a little smile, “Aw, cute! Well, that’s okay. See you around.” The couple watched her go, Nick looking a bit pensive and Petar smiling happily. “See? No problem. No need to put on a show of being something or someone else, and now she won’t come and bother us again.” The older man just hummed anxiously in reply then said, “I guess. She’s young. It’s Belgrade. Maybe it’s fine.” Petar sighed and headed toward the P-bars. “I really would like to go to the club. Will you take me?” Nick shook his head, “I don’t think-” “You aren’t scared, are you? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big bad gay-” The older man laughed, “Ha! I’m the one protecting you, if you’ll remember! If you really want to go, we’ll go. But I doubt I’ll like it.”

…

Club Musk was incredibly unpleasant. Nikola couldn’t even enjoy his drink due to the ear-splitting cacophony known as House music, the gaudy décor hurt his eyes, and he was really not enjoying getting cruised by low-class sleeze. If one more of these ugly fucks asked him to dance, he was going to-

His train of thought was derailed when a reasonably good-looking guy started hitting on Petar right in front of him. The young gymnast seemed receptive to the idea of a dance and Nikola finally couldn’t take it anymore. Inserting himself between his lover and the other man, he shot the tall bastard his ‘drop dead’ glare. “We were just leaving,” he growled as he grabbed his cousin’s arm and did his best to drag him from the club.

Petar followed along obediently until they left the club, then pulled away and complained. “Well, you didn’t give that much of a chance. I barely even had one drink and I still want to dance.” The older man sighed, exasperated by the whole situation. “I told you I’d hate it, and I can’t have those assholes rubbing themselves all over you. It’s disgusting!” The gymnast snickered immaturely, “Yeah, I’m sure _that’s_ what they wanted to rub on me. Come on, it’s just for fun. You know I don’t want anyone but you, my first, my one and only...” He slid his hand down the back of Nikola’s pants, trying to squeeze the older man’s butt. “Ah! Cut it out! People might see.”

Petar stopped groping him but moaned sulkily, “You wouldn’t even dance with me.” Nikola huffed, “If you get me drunk enough I can _kolo_.” “Ugh, this isn’t a folk festival! Besides you’re already plenty drunk. Come on, let’s try another club. Maybe you’ll like the scene somewhere else.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through some of the other choices. “ _Pleasure_. Okay, let’s try that one...” Nikola sighed heavily and plodded after his lover. “Alright, one more. Maybe they’ll at least have some good _rakija_...”

…

Petar raised an eyebrow at the appearance of their next stop. Pleasure Club looked sort of like a run-down nail salon from the outside. Not wanting to give in to his cousin’s negative attitude he shrugged and opened the door, holding it open for Nick. “Thanks. I hope this place is better-” The sound of loud Turbo Folk drowned out whatever he said next. Petar followed his cousin, bemused by the conventionally Serbian décor and music. It was like a straight club for gays, complete with the Ottoman influenced music style with its tremulous vocals, accordion and brass instruments over cheesy synths. “Ugh, I hate this shit...” he muttered to himself, watching morbidly as Nick led him to the bar. The man seemed in good spirits as he ordered a whole bottle of _rakija_. “Hey! That’s too much! How much do you plan to drink anyhow?” he yelled in the vicinity of the older man’s ear, who looked down at him surprised. “What? Oh, because of training? Sorry.” He changed the order to three shots each, grabbed the drinks and led him to one of the cheap faux leather sofas.

Taking a glass, Nick looked him in the eyes, _“Živio!”_ They sipped their rakija and Petar was surprised to see a smile break out on his cousin’s face. “Not bad! This place is more my style.” “What, you _like_ Turbo Folk?” “What’s not to like? It’s catchy.” The younger man made a face and yelled, “It’s misogynistic garbage that celebrates crass materialism.” The older man was already starting on his second shot. “I love crass materialism! Why do you think I moved to America?” Petar sighed and thought, _‘He must be awfully drunk to let something like that slip. Maybe, I should bring it up...’_ “Hey, let’s get out of here. The whole clubbing thing isn’t working.” The older man shrugged, slammed back his last shot and stood up. “Your choice. You won’t see me complain!” he yelled, as he gestured toward the exit.

…

Petar waited until they were walking alone on the dark street then said, “I already figured out that you weren’t born in America, you know that right?” Nick was silent for a long time. So long that Petar started to wonder if the older man had heard him until the light tenor voice asked softly, “You aren’t upset that I lied?” Petar looked over at his cousin’s profile. His deep-set eyes were shadowed by his brow, unreadable. The young man replied diplomatically, “You must have your reasons...” then figuring he might as well get this over with he said, “You’re a thief, aren’t you.” He stated it flatly, as a declaration of fact, watching as his cousin’s head turned to face him, steel gray eyes wide with surprise. “How do you know that?”

Petar smiled a little, pleased he’d managed to outwit his cousin. “Twenty-four million dollars, on the run...What else am I supposed to conclude? Also, you’re not a very good liar when you’re drunk, and of course your wits were knocked loose by that rock.” They walked in companionable silence for a moment, then his cousin said apprehensively, “The people I stole from, they really deserved it. Do you think less of me for it?” The athlete mulled that statement over. Not sure what to make of the assertion that jewelry stores really deserved to get knocked over, he focused on the second part. “No, you were taken advantage of. They shouldn’t have recruited you into a life of crime.” The older man snickered drunkenly, “Huh? What are you talking about?” He sighed, figuring his cousin was trying to cover for his fellow thieves, then said quietly, “I figured out that you’re one of the...” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “...the Pink Panthers-” “Oh my god, _that’s_ what you think?! This is hilarious! Though, it’s kind of flattering...The artists of theft!” His cousin practically collapsed in giggles like a drunken fool.

Petar frowned, annoyed and confused by Nick’s reaction. “If you’re not in a gang, then what?” The older man finally managed to stop laughing, wiped his watering eyes and looked down on his confused face. Suppressing a silly smile, he managed to say, “Embezzlement. The US Department of Homeland Security kept trying to recruit me for some bullshit project. They were so persistent that I thought, why not jerk them around and take their money? They practically wrote me a blank check-” Petar hissed, “You’re wanted by the American government?!” At the older man’s matter of fact nod, he muttered in shock, “Well, I can see why you left. But you made it sound like you could go back...” Nick shrugged. “Who knows? Never underestimate the incompetence of the United States government.”

They walked quietly for a while until another drunken couple passed then Petar asked, “What’s your real name anyway?” “Hmm, what makes you think it’s not Nick Mandic?” The older man sassed, obviously enjoying toying with him. The gymnast scoffed, “After you got hit in the head you asked me why I was calling you Nick. Said a whole bunch of other crazy things too, I seem to remember.” After a long silence in which his heavily intoxicated cousin was obviously trying to think up something to say, Petar put his hand on the taller man’s shoulder and brought him to a halt. Looking him in the eyes, he said seriously, “It’s okay. You can tell me the truth. I love you and I won’t judge you.”

His cousin licked his thin lips nervously then replied cautiously, “My name is Nikola...” Feeling sorry for the older man, Petar completed the statement, “Tesla, right? It’s okay, I know.” A look of distress flashed over his narrow face. “You must think I’m crazy. Why are you okay with this?” The young man broke his gaze and ran his thick thumb over a delicate collarbone thoughtfully. “Crazy or not, you’re so beautiful...” Passionate blue gray eyes pierced a near matching pair, driving home his vow of loyalty, “I will be yours forever, no matter what happens.”


	10. Chapter 10

Nikola lay in bed in the dark, going over the events of the night. He really didn’t know what to make of his young cousin. He’d obviously underestimated him. The scenario he’d come up with was strikingly plausible; a mentally ill genius, recruited by the most famous gang in the Balkans, no doubt to aid in the fencing of all those stolen gems, laundering of money, or whatnot. Given the feasibility of such a scheme, he filed it away as an option if he ever got in bad enough trouble to have to consider a life of crime. Well, more crime than usual, he supposed.

Besides being surprised by the young athlete’s intelligence, he was also impressed by his staunch loyalty and fearlessness. Some of that was no doubt the naiveté of youth, but even so...No one had shown such willingness to face together the consequences of his sometimes rash actions, no one that is, except Helen...and now Petar.

Neither had many people been willing or able to put up with his episodes of mental illnesses. In his long life, there had been plenty of promising friendships and professional relationships that had failed due to the other party becoming leery whenever he started to slip. One colleague even said they could not bear to continue associating with him for fear that he would lose his mind at any moment. Due to such interactions, Nikola had learned to be self-reliant socially, and not hold such fears against people, but it still made for a tense and lonely existence.

Finding a kindred soul that wasn’t afraid to be with him was something precious and rare. Something that Nikola knew he didn’t really deserve. After all, he had spent all this time lying to the young man. Why would Petar so freely trust and love someone like that? The suspicion that his declarations of love could simply be financially motivated was surprisingly distressing, so much so that Nikola couldn’t help but want to test his cousin’s sincerity. A plan formed in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

…

“Aw, shit! How could this happen?!” Petar raised a brow at his cousin’s frantic expression as he looked at his phone. “What’s up?” he asked as he approached the agitated older man. “I’ve been wiped out! Look!” Nikola showed him his account, pointing out the negative balance of -$37,000. The young athlete shook his head, “There must be some kind of mistake. How could you end up owing money?” The slender inventor grimaced, “Well, I was doing some investing...They were a bit risky, but I thought I could handle it.” Petar looked at him dubiously for a moment, then shrugged and said calmly, “Huh. Okay. Well, what are you going to do?” The matter of fact way the twenty-year-old reacted to his apparent loss of his fortune almost made Nikola regret putting his cousin to the test this way, but seeing as he was already committed...

He put the phone down on the table, sat down and put his head in his hands rather dramatically. “I guess, I’ll just have to find some work.” “Not anything illegal I hope.” The young man chastised, softening the statement with a pat on the back. Nikola looked up at his cousin, putting on a worried look, “It’s a lot of money. I’ll need to come up with something special to get out of this.” Playing along with the role of the recently impoverished investor, Nikola figured this was a good time to find out what his cousin’s real limits on illegal activity were. “Maybe there’s some jobs on Tor.” He grabbed his phone, signed onto the dark web browser and started scrolling through some job listings. “Here’s a job doing some creative accounting. The pay is ten Bitcoins, so...what? A little over $90,000? Number crunching sounds so boring though... A forgery job for six Bitcoins... Ah, insurance fraud, that one is lucrative-”

“Nikola, I really don’t think...” The deceptive Serb paused, “Yes? What’s wrong?” he prompted with faux innocence. Petar sighed, “It’s just some debt. It’s not worth risking your life or jail. Surely there must be some legal work you could do instead...” Nikola nodded, “Sure, but it might mean having to relocate. Remote work just doesn’t pay enough.” He waited with bated breath, wondering if Petar would seek to wash his hands of him by telling him to go ahead and leave.

The young athlete looked pained by his predicament, but after a few long moments of introspection seemed to come to a decision. “Okay, here’s what we will do. I’ll pick up some construction work to pay the bills while you do some remote work while looking for good paying, honest work. It will probably take you at least a few months anyhow, so we’ll keep doing what we’re doing, training, just living a normal life. I’ll do my best to win the competition and use the prize money to help you pay down your debt. It’s not much but every bit helps. Then, if you have to leave the country for work...I-” his voice cracked as he struggled to continue, “I just hope I can manage to go with you. I don’t know if I could bear being apart...”

Nikola realized he’d been wrong to test his cousin like this and felt the unexpected feeling of a black wave of guilt sweeping over him. He now realized how good and sincere his cousin’s love was. Resolving to never deceive the innocent young man again, he got to his feet and embraced his lover. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. I lied about the money.” The young man pushed him away and looked him in the eye. “What?! Why?” The older man grinned sheepishly, “I wanted to know if you really love me, or if you’re just with me for my money, so I lied. The balance I showed you is just temporary. After the trades go through, I’ll probably even have more than before.”

The muscular youth scowled, “Ugh, you’re an asshole, you know that?! I ought to beat you.” Looping a thick arm around Nikola’s slender waist, he tried to wrestle the older man into position to smack him on the ass. The playful struggle ended with Petar getting his way and giving his crazy cousin a good hard spank. Nikola cried through his laughter, “Ow! You play too rough!”

…

“Seriously, though. I would like to start working again.” The older man said, as he entered the living room and handed Petar a glass of water. The gymnast quickly chugged it, then started stretching. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous...” Nikola muttered, momentarily distracted by the sight, then continued, “There’s got to be something available in Serbia-” The young man stretched his hamstrings and said idly, “I don’t know...Niš used to have a good electronics industry but it went bankrupt because of sanctions during the war. Maybe you could apply to the power company-” Nikola tsked in disgust, “It’s mostly lignite-fired thermal power plants-” “What’s lignite?” “It’s low grade brown coal, just filthy! It’s like progress skipped this country. Still using steam-electric power generation-” Petar laughed, “Yeah, but so is ninety percent of the world! Come on, don’t be so hard on your countrymen.” The electrical engineer sighed and hung his head. “It’s my fault. If I just hadn’t been so careless...”

Lost in his own world, Nikola was startled when his young cousin put his arm around his waist and asked softly, “What’s wrong, little prince?” his blue gray eyes gazing up at him, wide with sincere curiosity. The older man smiled gently at his sweet lover and explained, “I failed to solve the energy problems of the world and now, I feel like I don’t have enough time to get it right.” Petar nodded slowly, then tried to encourage him, “Well, you’re still young. Don’t you think you can accomplish it with the rest of your life?”

Nikola stared at his cousin’s face, realizing that he was being patronized. Petar still thought he was delusional, a pathetic madman convinced he was the long dead inventor of the AC motor. _‘Well, of course he does. My story is too crazy to be believed...’_ he mused, then with an internal shrug, he figured that he had nothing to lose. “I used to be immortal and had all the time in the world. An experiment made me into...a vampire.” Petar managed to keep a straight face and asked softly, “Are you pulling my leg again, or do you mean it?”

Nikola nodded rapidly and paced back and forth, excited to finally be able to tell his cousin the truth. “Yes, I mean it! Helen conducted an experiment in 1886 at Oxford University with a serum of pure vampire blood. That activated dormant vampire genes in my DNA and made me a hybrid vampire with their strength, speed, invulnerability and immortality. It also gave the other human test subjects various abilities. Helen received longevity as well, though she’s not quite immortal...” “Uh huh. Okay, but you lost your vampire-ness?” Petar was now obviously humoring him, but the inventor continued regardless, “Yes, I tried to replicate the process and create my own vampires. I felt alone as the last of my race, so I dabbled in some genetic engineering with some unwitting teenagers. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea I ever had...Anyway I regretted turning them and created a device to turn them back. Unfortunately, in the struggle, they turned my device back on me and well, here I am. Just ordinary, mortal Nikola again.”

Nikola abruptly stopped in place and looked at the young gymnast expectantly. Petar surprised the older man by opening up his arms and beckoning. “Come on, let me hold you.” The inventor approached cautiously and found himself enveloped in a warm embrace. Two kisses landed on his cheeks then another on his mouth. “You’ll never be ordinary Nikola. Everything about you is too wonderful.” The muscular young man smiled at him cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with love. “I know you’re going to do amazing things. Don’t worry about accomplishing things so much, okay? Well, except getting a perfect L-sit on these paralettes right now.” He led him over to the low bars. “Come on. Let’s see it.” Nikola chuckled at his cousin’s transparent segue but smiled back charmed by the young man’s affectionate nature. “Alright, alright. I’ll get to work...” he muttered as he complied.

…

When Nikola turned on his phone again that evening he realized he was still connected to the dark web. “Whoops...” he muttered as he got ready to close the browser, then realized he had an email in his inbox. “That’s weird...” Opening the server, he was shocked to see the sender listed as Dr. Jennifer Coates. “What the hell?” Not certain what to do, he glanced around the room. Petar was zoned out in front of the TV, watching some kind of crime drama. After a moment of hesitation, curiosity got the better of him and he opened the email.

_Dear Nicky,_

_I do hope you’ve forgiven me for saving a little of the genetic material you so generously ‘gifted’ me with. As you’ve probably figured out by now, I regifted it to the Department of Homeland Security, at their request. Wherever you are, you should be expecting a visit from them soon about the money you ‘borrowed.’_

_What you may not know is that I also took the liberty of drugging you and extracting a sample of blood. This was for my other employers, the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. They are willing to return the sample to you if you will consider their offer of employment. If you’d like to reclaim your property, please contact me at this number._ _095 923 62 13_

_Affectionately,_

_Dr. Jennifer Coates, but you can call me Natasha_

_P.S. If you come to Russia, I’d love to pick up where we left off. You were good, but as you know, I was better._

A million things flashed through Nikola’s head at once, but the one thought that rose blaringly loud above the rest was, ‘ _I can regain my immortality!’_ He thought about all the possibilities to reverse engineer the effects of the Source Blood serum from a sample of his vampiric self’s blood. Of course, it would require supplies and equipment, which weren’t cheap, but didn’t the Russians mention they’d provide him with work? Surely, they would give him a decent lab...And with the problems with their aging workforce in the hard sciences, he felt confident that they would treat his intellect like the valuable asset that it was. The only real question in his mind, was what was the best way to go about contacting them. He obviously wasn’t going to call the provided phone number with the highly traceable GPS device that was a cellphone. No, he should probably just send a reply to the email. The untraceable browser should adequately conceal his location. His decision made he typed out his reply,

_Dear Natasha,_

_I am willing to consider your offer, with conditions of course. Lab and equipment to my specifications, my choice of staff, a salary comparable to what the Americans were paying me, private housing for myself and a guest, and of course visas for us both. I’ll let you know if I think of anything else. Impress me with what sort of projects you can offer me, and I just might accept._

_-N.T._


	11. Chapter 11

Petar very slowly turned the knob to the bathroom door, happy to find that Nikola had left it unlocked while taking a shower. He opened the door at a glacial pace, hoping to catch his cousin by surprise but was disappointed to hear the high tenor say, “I know you’re trying to sneak in. Do you have to use the toilet or what?” With a sigh he stepped inside the steamy bathroom and shut the door. Making his way to the shower he opened the sliding door and stepped in. His slender cousin’s head was bent forward, washing his short black hair under the spray of water. “God you like it hot! You’re all red.” he exclaimed as he acclimated to the sauna-like space.

He soaped up his hands and ran them over the soft flushed skin of his cousin’s back, enjoying how the slender man arched up into his touch like an affectionate cat. Trailing his hands lower he gently squeezed the small buttocks, slipping his fingers in between, feeling for his lover’s anus. Encouraged by the lack of any protests, he tried ordering, “Bend over and let me see it.” Nikola looked over his shoulder at him, his sharp profile no less intimidating dripping wet, but turned back to the wall and braced his forearms against the tiles. Petar smiled triumphantly and happily explored the exposed crevice, taking a good look at the dusky, crinkled skin around the tiny hole. Tapping it with his finger lightly, he was delighted to see the little muscles clench and relax. After playing with it for a bit, he pressed a slick finger into the tight channel, wondering if Nikola was enjoying being penetrated.

“Don’t think about putting anything else in there, okay?” his lover’s voice said tartly, while spreading those exquisite slender thighs. Petar gently felt around inside the hot channel, enjoying the raw feeling of touching the soft walls. “Don’t worry. I won’t. But you can’t blame me for wondering...” His cousin gasped as he touched the area near his prostate. “After all, I’ll only ever have you. Would you deny me the experience of fucking? Not even just once?”

Nikola sighed in pleasure as the thick digit massaged him from within, flooding his pelvis with a delicious warmth. “I guess, well, I’ll think about it...” He stood up and squirmed out of Petar’s reach, then grabbed a washcloth and started washing his broad chest. The older man was staring at his torso as the shower rinsed away the soap, seeming entranced by his large pecs, then leaned over to lick a flat nipple. Petar caressed his cousin’s head as he suckled and laved his pink pointed tongue over his chest. Though his nipples weren’t erogenous, the attention was certainly pleasant, as well as extremely flattering. “You’re so sexy Nikola...See how much I want you?” he whispered, pushing his hips forward to show off his prominent arousal.

Drawn like a bee to a flower, his cousin bent lower to take the thick head of Petar’s cock in his mouth, but the young man pulled himself away. “I know you love the taste of me, but maybe if I deprive you of it, you’ll think a little faster about giving me your ass.” He laughed at the frustrated groan coming from near his hips and held his cousin’s hungry mouth away from its goal. “No, no, no! Not until you tell me when-” “Fuck you then! I hope you get blue balls!” The older man snapped peevishly and gave up on his pursuit, leaving the shower. “Aw, Nikola! I was just playing, come on.” The gymnast whined as he followed his lover out of the cubicle. With a violent slap, Nikola flipped the switch for the fan, clearing the small room of steam. His long erection was starting to subside as he dug through the drawer for his comb.

Figuring the mood was gone, Petar grabbed a towel and wiped the mirror clean. As usual he checked out his physique with a few poses. His cousin scoffed, “You are so vain...Well, not that it’s not justified.” Petar just smiled at his lover and said, “Let’s see how you measure up. Try this pose.” He did a simple front double bicep pose, figuring Nikola would find that easiest. Watching the lanky man half-heartedly ape his position, he shook his head with playful disgust. “Come here...” He pushed his arms higher. “Make them horizontal...okay, now elbows a little forward...” He tapped the other man on a lean pec, “Tight here. Come on squeeze!” Looking at the man critically he muttered, “Better. You could get more lat spread though. Breathe in and...yes, that’s right!” Petar walked behind the taller man and looked at him in the mirror. The slender man finally had a bit of a V taper and the long, lean muscles were starting to develop a wiry toughness. “Finally, you’re starting to look like a man. Don’t you agree?” he asked with a teasing smile.

Nikola’s eyes met his own in the mirror, something unreadable within their depths, then he broke the pose and said casually, “Yeah, you’re a good trainer. I look a lot like my Uncle Josif did when he was young. He was your ancestor you know. A great soldier. We had a very strong family resemblance except he went bald at a young age.” The gymnast cocked his head, surprised by the sudden reminiscence, but went with it and said, “Come on, let’s get dressed and you can tell me about him over dinner.”

…

That night, after telling Petar about his many times great grandfather Josif Tesla, Nikola signed on to the dark web and checked his email. No reply yet. Realizing it was premature to feel disappointed he turned off his phone and got into bed. Going over the events of the day, the incident in the bathroom drifted through his mind. “Finally look like a man...What a smartass.” he whispered to himself, smiling a little but also conscious of how the comment was a bit too on point. He was aware of the effeminacy of his appearance, his high voice, his preferences for cleanliness and fashion. In the modern world it was perhaps even more obvious than it had been in the past, when Victorian gentlemen who preferred the company of men would frequent the opera and try to pick up youthful looking men like himself. Until he was nearly thirty he’d had the perpetual appearance of a seventeen-year-old. It was lucky that he had been so leery of being caught, otherwise who knew what those predatory older men might have done to him.

Seeing himself in the mirror next to Petar, comparison was inevitable, and he felt just as inadequate regardless of how much he had improved objectively. It reminded him of his fellow students at Graz Polytechnic. No matter how much they studied and their grades improved, no matter how much they learned, they were never able to catch up with him. The starting point of his intellectual ability was beyond theirs, and for every bit of their progress, his own progress kept him well ahead. In fact, the gap kept growing. It had made him the object of their scorn and resentment, and he refused to feel that way toward Petar. His cousin was the better man and Nikola was smart enough to accept that, but it didn’t eliminate the desire to prove himself just as much a man in other ways. If he was honest with himself, he knew that his insecurity was the main reason why he was reluctant to let the younger man fuck him. Hygiene and the possibility of pain were also concerning but really, he just didn’t like the idea of being treated like a woman. Why wasn’t oral enough for his young lover? It had always been good enough for Richmond...

He thought back on how twenty-eight-year-old Captain Richmond Hobson had befriended him when he was in his forties. The handsome young man had introduced him to oral pleasures, though the hero of the Spanish American war had always played the man and refused to reciprocate. Richmond thought it better to use another man’s mouth rather than give in to the self-injurious habit of masturbation. He’d been that strange variety of puritan that justified their lapses as necessary for their self-control. It turned out that the hard labor of fellatio was something Nikola excelled at and enjoyed. Swallowing the seed of a celebrated Victorian sex symbol was so thrilling he had silently thanked the Navy every time the man had asked him to alleviate his urges. Eventually, Hobson had given in to the social necessity of marriage and that was the end of their sexual relationship, though the two remained friends until his death. It had been one of the most satisfying relationships of his life, despite the necessity of concealing his lack of aging from the man.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Petar was proving to be more like Nikola’s first lover Antal. In the beginning, it had all been mutual masturbation and intercrural sex with the lustful Hungarian and Nikola felt truly happy for the first time in his young life. But it was not to last, for eventually the older man complained that it wasn’t enough for him and asked to penetrate his young lover. His remembered the conversation vividly, as after their falling out, he often wondered if things would have been different if he had submitted to being treated like a catamite...

...

“ _Nikola, it feels so good, please...” The slender young man frowned suspiciously, “You mean you’ve let another man...” he couldn’t even bring himself to talk about the act, much less imagine having it done to him. Antal sighed, “Yes, it was an older boy when I was nine. He, well, he used me for his pleasure and I couldn’t stop him. At first it hurt, but then I got hard for the first time, and it started to feel good. And being on the other side of it...You’ve never really fucked anyone, so you don’t know. Please, it would make me so happy with you.” Nikola shook his head, “It sounds like...like that boy raped-” “It was just kid stuff, just him having fun with me. And, we’re having fun too, aren’t we?” The Hungarian dismissed his misgivings with a crooked smile and approached his lover. Calloused hands grabbed him by the waistband of his trousers and started unbuttoning them. “Come here my little chicken. I know you want to feel me over you, like husband and wife on the wedding night...”_

_Nikola grabbed the large hands that were undressing him and tried to pry them off, but the older man was too strong. “Stop it! I’m no woman, to be treated this way!” The stocky body was pressing hard against him, herding him toward the bed, a place Nikola was terrified to go. “Please, no! I don’t want it!” he cried as his lover pinned him to his bed, a muscular thigh pressed between his slender legs. The blond man attempted to kiss him, chasing his lips with his own as Nikola urgently turned his head away. “You’ll like it once I start. I know what I’m talking about.” To his horror the young man felt his eyes watering with angry tears, but pinned down as he was, he couldn’t even hide his face. The powerful Hungarian kissed his wet cheeks and laughed lowly, “You say you’re no woman, but look at you. Crying like a virgin about to be despoiled.”_

_Suddenly, the Serbian youth was filled with rage. “I’m a man! Get off me!” With strength he didn’t know he had Nikola wrenched his left arm out of the Antal’s crushing grip and punched him hard in the face. With a yelp the stocky body rolled off him and he scrambled away, searching the room for an opening to get to the door. Unable to see a way around the broadly built man, Nikola put up his fists ready to fight. Antal rubbed his bruised cheek, looking up at his lanky opponent and merely smiled. “Alright, alright. I guess it’s not for you my little man.” The older man waved off his rage, refusing to take it seriously, then with exaggerated mockery stepped aside and gestured toward the door. “If you’re so scared of me, go ahead. But you’ve made your point. I won’t ask for it again, alright?”_

...

After the incident of near rape it had taken a while for Nikola to trust the older man again, but their friendship had eventually been repaired. Antal was hard on him sometimes, but the young man felt it was not so different than having an older brother. Dane had used to play rough with him too. They’d fought many times, leaving black eyes and bruises then always made up, and it had been no different with Antal. The only thing that gave a sharp edge to their falling out was the Hungarian’s complete abandonment of their sexual relationship after that. Nikola had wished for things to continue as they had been and had hoped for love, kisses, affection and such, but Antal wasn’t having it. Soft things like that were for the ladies, and only because they expected it. The libidinous Hungarian had no use for them and soon began resorting to visiting whores.

Given the intense feelings the young Serb had developed for his first lover, the emotional abandonment had thrown him into a depression. The young man became convinced he was either losing his mind or dying or both. It had only resolved when he devoted himself whole-heartedly to his work and managed to discover the principle behind his AC motor. He remembered feeling rather disillusioned with Antal after that, despite his friendly support during the episode. He left Budapest for France and they didn’t reconnect for some years. When they did, it was only for professional reasons, as well as a sense of nostalgia and lingering attachment on Nikola’s part.

‘ _Petar wouldn’t do that to me. He’s different from Antal in many ways, but most of all he is so affectionate. It’s obvious that he loves me, so why should I refuse him?’_ Nikola imagined what it would be like to let Petar fuck him. The feeling of being pinned by his hard, heavy body. The strong hands grabbing him, controlling him. The unknown feeling of being breached and used, filled with the man’s semen. He felt sick and disturbed by the arousal he experienced at the thought.

‘ _I don’t want to be...I’m not a...’_ Nikola didn’t want to even think the word. He tried a different tack. ‘ _If I fucked him first, would it make it easier? Like that would somehow make it fair?’_ He’d had anal sex with Helen a few times. She had a libido as strong as any man and once sexuality was liberalized she had wanted to try everything. Their experimentation with anal sex had been a bit of a fiasco. The condom he’d insisted on for the sake of cleanliness made it feel so different than regular sex that he’d lost his erection after a few minutes. Ever the practical one, Helen made him practice with regular protected sex and he was able to function, but once they switched to anal he kept going soft.

Dismissing it as psychological, Helen had callously told him she would just have to find someone else. That still hurt. It seemed that he was sexually inadequate to many people. Not willing to play the passive role for Antal and unable to satisfy Helen in the active role, he’d given up on anal sex and learned to stick to only what he was good at. ‘ _But I lost both of them. I can’t lose Petar too...’_ Nikola put the pillow over his head and groaned into the bed, “I’m trying to make you happy...”


	12. Chapter 12

Petar groaned as the talented hands kneaded his sore flesh. “Harder?” that charming tenor voice asked solicitously. He sighed, “Just keep doing what you’re doing...Oh, that’s so good.” He felt the tension leaving his shoulder, finally alleviating the pain. Nikola stopped the sports massage briefly to get some more oil. Warming it in his hands, he rubbed it over massive shoulders and a wide back. “Mmm, you feel incredible...I’m getting hard...” the older man murmured. Petar gasped as he felt the blunt head of Nikola’s cock rubbing against his shoulder blade. “Fuck, where’d your pants go?” the young athlete chuckled and turned around to grab the long slim erection. Slowly pumping it, he smiled up at his lover. The older man grinned down at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hey, I want to do something with you. Come on, let’s go to my bed.”

Petar followed the half-dressed man to his room eagerly. “Are you going to fuck me?” he asked nervously. “I’ll go clean myself out if you want-” he babbled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed, “um, or if you want me now, I don’t care about getting dirty myself.” Nikola shot him a dubious look, clearly amused. “What, shit on your dick doesn’t bother you?” The younger man snickered, “I’m so horny now, if you let me in your ass, I wouldn’t give a damn.” The older man made a gagging noise, “Ugh, you’re so gross sometimes. This is what I get for fucking a guy straight off the street.” The mocking tone made it clear it was all in good fun, so he smacked a wiry arm gently and scoffed, “You’re such an asshole.”

Nikola quickly stripped, sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to his narrow hip. Petar was enchanted by the beautiful sight of the svelte naked man, happily waiting for him to strip and join him. Obligingly, the athlete got undressed as fast as possible and sat down flush up against his lover whose slender arms wrapped around him gently, caressing him deliciously. The older man sighed, “Could you rub this oil on me? Here...” He handed him the bottle of oil and guided his hands between his legs. Petar’s breath quickened, thrilled by the prospect. He rubbed the oil over Nikola’s lean thighs then gripped the erection in his hand, slathering the hot flesh liberally. “That looks so fucking hot...” he muttered, watching the foreskin slide back over the rosy wet head.

The tenor said lowly, “Go lie down with your legs apart.” He trembled at the older man’s order and quickly complied thinking he was about to get fucked for the first time. _‘Oh my god, he’s getting between my legs. He looks so confident, so dominant.’_ The gorgeous man nestled himself between the younger man’s muscular legs, carefully clasping his thick erection between his slender thighs, then moved his hips in a simulation of sex. Petar gasped as the slippery thighs slid up and down over his erection, stroking him exquisitely. “Fuck that’s good...” the comment was cut off as the older man took him by the back of the neck and kissed him deeply. His hot little tongue slipped inside his mouth. Their chests were pressed together, rubbing sensuously. Petar caressed his lover’s back, enjoying the wonderful intimacy of their position. He felt like a woman having some lazy afternoon sex with her husband. With a happy sigh he gave voice to his emotions. “I love you Nikola. I just want to be with you like this forever. I’d marry you if I could...”

The older man stilled on top of him and looked him in the eyes. “Really? Would you really want that?” Petar nodded, bringing a hand up to caress his beloved’s face. “Yes, if you were my husband, I would be so happy.” he whispered tenderly, then kissed him deeply. The older man slid his hands under his shoulders and squeezed him in a fierce hug. “You’re so good, so perfect. What did I ever do to deserve this...” he whispered as he pressed his face into the hollow of his neck. After a moment, Nikola pulled away despite Petar’s protests and lay back on the bed. Beckoning to the young man, he pulled his knees up to his chest. “Come try and fuck me, just please, be careful.” Thrilled to finally be asked to do it, Petar grinned and exclaimed, “Really?! Thank you, thank you!” Nikola laughed lightly then gasped as the young man covered his slender frame with his weight.

The gymnast wasted no time in slicking up his dick with oil and pressing the blunt head against the tight little hole. “Are you ready?” he whispered, gazing deeply into his lover’s eyes. Nikola nodded once, nervously holding his breath as the hard flesh began pressing against his most tender spot. The pressure built until with a sudden pain, his sphincter gave way, stretching around the thick cock. He winced and put a hand on Petar’s hip, keeping the young man from thrusting momentarily. “Fuck, you’re huge...” he muttered, trying to relax around the invading organ. “Can I keep going?” his lover hissed, trembling with tension as he hovered over his slender body. Nikola figured it wasn’t going to get much better and decided to just endure it. “Okay. Do it.”

Biting his lip, he stifled a moan of pain at the severe burning sensation of Petar sliding fully into his body. “Oh, oh god...fucking god!” the young man exclaimed, his face flushed as he began feverishly rutting between his legs. The older man was in agony but let him use his body, trying to enjoy the look of intense pleasure on his lover’s face. After several long minutes the young man thrust so deeply into him Nikola jumped and whimpered in pain. Petar stilled on top of him and groaned gutturally. Nikola felt the base of the thick cock twitching within his burning hole, then a flood of wet heat filling him.

“Oh god...” shocking even himself, the submissive man sobbed unable to prevent the tears from running down his cheek. It felt so awful, his gut clenched with shame and he covered his face with his hand. The thought ran through his mind, _‘I guess now I really am a peškir, just a rag to soak up cum.'_ He whined softly at the burning pain of Petar pulling out of him. His ass felt destroyed, hot fluid dripping out of him. It hurt enough that he wondered if blood was mixed with the semen. “Nikola, it’s okay, don’t cry.” Petar’s voice rose anxiously attempting to comfort his lover. Distantly, the older man could feel large hands cleaning him up tenderly.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?!” The baritone voice was tinged with hysteria, and Nikola finally managed to get ahold of himself enough to ask, “Am I bleeding?” Petar looked at him carefully, “No...It looks...You look a little red. I must have been too rough. I’m so sorry!” Nikola slowly sat up, wincing slightly at the pain between his buttocks. “You are big but...It didn’t hurt so much, I just...I feel disgusting, like...Fuck, I _am_ disgusting!” Petar’s eyes looked at him sadly. “Did you hate it so much? I’m sorry...It was so good for me. I only did it with love. I don’t want to humiliate you.” The young man whispered lowly, his brow furrowed with deep distress.

Nikola felt bad that he was making Petar’s first time such a failure. All the young man wanted was to have sex with his lover. He didn’t need Nikola’s hang ups ruining it for him. “I guess, you were right. We do have to talk about why I’m feeling this way. Let’s get cleaned up then we’ll talk.”


	13. Chapter 13

Nikola washed himself carefully, gently touching his sore anus. It felt swollen and loose, slick with oil and still damp with cum. The evidence of penetration was disturbing and he felt the urge to obliterate it. He grabbed the detachable shower head and thoroughly washed the area, the hot spray stinging the abused flesh. _“_ Ow...How’d it even fit...” he whimpered as he pressed his fingers inside, cleaning out the inside as best he could. Why did it feel so awful, having Petar ejaculate inside of him? After all, he swallowed the man’s cum all the time and enjoyed it thoroughly. Was it really so much worse taking it up the ass?

As he dried himself off with a soft white towel, he glanced at himself in the mirror. Despite being blurry from fog, the glass reflected a male body that still resembled a lanky adolescent. The thought of his thin legs pressed under Petar’s muscular chest as the man fucked him into the mattress like a woman was nauseating. ‘ _How can he want this? It’s perverted.’_ The negative thoughts were tormenting him, along with the memory of the young man’s deep masculine voice as he grunted and groaned over him. He grimaced at the feeling of arousal the memory stoked. _‘Is that how I really want it? Do I want to be dominated like that?”_

He combed his hair quickly, then headed for the bedroom, making a bee line for the dresser. Carefully putting on his clothes, layer by layer, the soothing action helped him feel put together and calm. He was aware that, just like the so-called ‘Masters of the Universe’ on Wall Street, he was a fraud, an insecure pissant that had no idea what he was doing, but the habitual mindset of ‘fake it until you make it’ was comforting.

…

“You look like you’re ready for a board meeting...” Petar murmured, taking in the older man’s appearance. Not one hair out of place, he wore his suit like armor. “Come sit next to me.” The athlete patted the couch and waited for his lover to come to him. The ginger way the older man sat down made it clear that he was still in pain. Petar felt bad that he’d been too rough with the man. He wrapped an arm around him and gently stroked him comfortingly. “I love you little prince. You looked so beautiful under me...why didn’t you enjoy it?”

Nikola took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak but wasn’t sure what to say. “Uh...well, it hurt. I was mostly just enduring it for your sake, because...because you love me...” The older man flushed and looked down at his hands, as though embarrassed to admit his own feelings. Petar nodded sympathetically, then gently prodded, “You were crying when I finished...Why did you say it was disgusting?” Nikola was silent for a long time, seeming unable to voice his thoughts. After a while the young man decided he needed a little help talking about it. “Is it because you think anal is gross?”

The high tenor chuckled nervously meeting his eyes briefly then looked away, “Well, I don’t like fucking an asshole so much myself. But you said you were fine with doing it.” Raising an eyebrow at that, the young man shrugged, “It’s okay if you don’t want to fuck me. You don’t have to do it, if you don’t like. We will do whatever you like. But I am grateful you gave me the experience of being inside you. It was just, absolutely wonderful.”

Nikola smiled up at him nervously then apologized again. Petar waved it away and continued the gentle inquisition, wishing there was something he could do to make his lover feel better. The humiliated older man was hunched over, shoulders raised as though bracing himself for a blow. What had happened to him to make him so afraid of being vulnerable? There were probably many damaging incidents to create such a deep sense of shame. “Was your upbringing very strict, that you should be moral and pure?”

Nikola nodded impatiently, “Of course, I was a good Orthodox boy, until after college anyway.” He sat there quietly, staring into space, lost in memories. Petar let him speak when he was ready. “Antal, he wanted to fuck me too...” The high tenor trailed off, a sad look crossing his narrow face. “Like man and wife on the wedding night he said. Then he said I would like it after a bit and when I said no he made fun of me for crying like a virgin...I was so angry; I’d never felt angry like that. I wouldn’t do it and was ready to fight him. After that, he wouldn’t touch me anymore. I was in love with him, you know.”

Petar gently kissed his lover’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I would never try to force you.” He wanted to make him feel more secure and continued, “I don’t think less of you for enjoying being passive or for being a little effeminate.” Nikola groaned, “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” The young athlete frowned and said firmly, “It makes you interesting. You’re graceful and elegant but also powerful and proud. A mix of masculine and feminine that is very attractive.” The older man quirked a brow dubiously. “I know I’m not exactly a great example of robust masculinity...”

Petar shrugged, “So what if you’re a hardgainer. Look at you. You’ve built up your shoulders, nice biceps, your abs are ripped. I know you look at yourself and still think you’re skinny, but you’re all whipcord muscle. And I remember how you handled yourself in that fight in the park. The way you dropped that guy with a kidney punch still makes me hard. And that’s not even considering the non-physical things about you. Smart, rich, confident...I feel like a kid next to you half the time.”

Nikola laughed, “I don’t think anyone could mistake you for a boy! I love how manly you are. So much power, such virility! I...I can’t help but want to...I want to feel your strength taking me...” The older man sighed, feeling conflicted. He was admitting to the desire to be sexually submissive to the masculine force of his lover, but he still felt disturbed by the idea of acting feminine. “I would enjoy what you did today, if only...” he whispered to himself. “Hm?” Petar grunted, not quite catching what his lover said. Nikola shook his head and said, “I just, I should enjoy it, so I don’t understand why I reacted this way.”

Petar nodded then asked, “You said you’re not really gay. Is it that taking it up the ass is too gay for you?” He tried his best to say it as neutrally as he could, though he was worried that his cousin was the type to want to maintain as straight a persona as possible. He still remembered how the older man had hit on that teenaged girl in an attempt to appear blatantly heterosexual. The idea that his lover would wish to stay closeted in public was painful but understandable. What was disturbing was the possibility that his lover would police his sexuality in their private relationship.

Nikola’s thin lips made a moue of distaste. “I don’t really buy into the whole sexual orientation thing. There’s just sex acts a person decides to do or not...” Petar was taken aback by how conservative his cousin actually was. “You mean, you think people chose whether or not to, uh, commit homosexual acts? Like they could choose straight sex instead if they wanted?” The narrow shoulders raised and fell in a shrug. “I don’t know about other people. I just know it’s always been a matter of choice for me.”

Feeling a bit disoriented, Petar hesitantly asked, “Do you think I’m choosing to be gay?” not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Nikola looked up at him, brow furrowed thoughtfully, “Uh, well, I guess that would be...” he laughed nervously and continued, “It wouldn’t make much sense to think that.” After an awkward silence he added, “An innate orientation or a freely chosen lifestyle, neither one really represents the reality for everyone, I guess.” Petar shook his head, trying to clear the confusing tangle his cousin presented. “Ok, that’s beside the point anyhow. Just for yourself, do you think taking it makes you less-”

Nikola interrupted him, “It’s no more passive than when you fuck my mouth. I just...being under you, on my back...It was like being...” the older man swallowed tensely, looking like he had a bad taste in his mouth. Petar waited patiently for him to spit it out. Finally, with a cringe he managed to force the words out, “It was like I was a woman. When you were coming in me, I felt so...like a thing being used. Just, unnatural and sick.” Petar shook his head, “I don’t think you believe women are inferior, but femininity...” The older man sighed, “Well, maybe it is inferior. After all, women can be feminine or masculine as they please, but men can never be feminine and still be successful and respected.” The younger man frowned in disagreement, “Men should be able to be feminine-” “No. It’s not possible.” Petar was surprised his cousin took such a strong stand. Genuinely curious, he inquired, “Why?”

Nikola took a deep breath and sighed, “Well, the way I see it, a feminine man is weak, passive and without agency. While women can be that way and still find a husband to support them, men can’t attract a woman unless they have something going for them. This is because the main problem women have is having to avoid dangerous and defective men that will be a threat or a drain on them. Women assess a man’s fitness through his accomplishments, which provide evidence that he is not defective and thus worthwhile as a risk. Passive, unambitious men have no such evidence of fitness and both women and men judge them harshly for it. Basically, they end up being society’s victims, the losers of the mating game, despised and disregarded.”

Petar’s eyebrows felt like they had taken up residence in his hair. “Uh, well, that sounds like a problem for straight couples more than-” “I have to live in their society. The world is 96 percent straight.” “But just because sexual minorities aren’t the majority, that doesn’t mean they can’t be themselves.” Nikola huffed, “Well, yes, you can do whatever you want so long as you’re fine with the consequences. But if you’re interested in managing others’ impression of you, to control how they react-” “Wow, you really live your life that way all the time? But all this doesn’t even matter for us. Our problem is just between you and me. In private, you know you can act as feminine with me as you like, and I’ll just enjoy being with you. If you wanted me to take charge, I would do it for you. Or if you want to be the boss of me, I’ll be fine with that too. I’m confident that if we’re genuine with each other, we will be fine no matter what.”

The older man was touched by his cousin’s sincerity. He stroked his short black hair, enjoying its softness, while gazing into his blue gray eyes, then admitted, “I guess, I didn’t like the feeling of it being out of my control...” Petar chuckled, “So, that’s all it is. You want to wear the pants. Go ahead, pretend we’re about to have sex and tell me what you’d like me to do. I’ll just be a toy for you to use.” The young man sat there looking at his older lover attentively, awaiting orders.

Nikola found his lover’s obedience arousing but felt uncertain how to proceed. If his lover were completely under his control, what would he want him to do? “Um, I would want to be in control of penetration, at least until I felt comfortable. They I could tell you how much to move, how hard I wanted it. Face to face was so personal. It felt too exposed... I would rather just focus on myself, on the sensation, rather than thinking about you.”

The young athlete grinned, “Oh, a selfish bottom! You’re my little hedonist.” Wrapping his large arms around the older man he kissed him playfully then smirked devilishly at him. “Where are you ticklish, I wonder?” After a few experimental pokes he had his hands full with a squirming giggling man. “Petar! A ha ha! No!”


	14. Chapter 14

Petar was counting his money. There was just enough for the entrance fee to the competition. Registration was now open at a small table in the office of a local park. The competition was in a week and he felt more than ready. Of course, there was no telling who he might be competing against, what kind of talent and skills they had. Except Lazar of course. He would no doubt be there, that fucking bastard. He couldn’t wait to beat him, if no one else.

He put the money in his wallet then stood outside the bathroom door and yelled, “Nikola, we need to head over and pay the fee today! They’re only going to be there until 1500.” The older man was still busy showering and getting changed. ‘ _The man must go through three outfits a day.’_ the young athlete thought with fond annoyance, as he waited impatiently for his lover. “I’ll leave without you, unless you just throw something on and get out here in ten minutes!” he threatened, when he saw the older man go to his bedroom and reach for a dress shirt. The slender Serb sneered, but quickly put on a T shirt and track pants. Petar tapped his foot as his lover zipped up his black jacket. “Okay! Let’s go!” the young athlete exclaimed as they finally headed for the door.

...

The park was full of kids out of school in the afternoon. Making their way to the park office, Petar saw a line of half a dozen young men. Happily, he noted that none of them were as visibly muscular as himself. Though ability was the main criteria for judgment, he was very aware that the visual component could give him an edge over the competition. After a few minutes, a guy approached him with a clipboard and asked him to fill out a paper application while waiting in line. Just as he finished the form, he reached the front of the line, handed them his paperwork and paid his entrance fee with his wad of grubby cash. Turning toward Nikola, who was waiting for him on the sidelines, he was just about to say how easy it all was when he saw some familiar faces.

“Hey faggots! I can’t believe you have the guts to show your faces here after the beating we gave you.” Lazar snickered at the withering glare Nikola shot him and his friends. Petar thought that his former classmate must have a death wish, to treat such a look of murderous hatred so lightly. Beckoning to his lover, he urged the older man to leave the park as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid another street fight. “Ignore those idiots. When I beat them next week, they’ll be eating their words.” At his disdainful tone, Lazar approached the young gymnast and spat, “You better not come on Saturday! In fact, if I were you, I’d leave town, or you might meet with an accident in a dark alleyway some time.” Petar scoffed, “You and what army? We’ll kick your asses twice as hard next time. Come on Nikola.”

…

The next day on their way back from the gym, Petar couldn’t help but eye passersby suspiciously. The sun was still out...there was no reason to worry was there? Nikola was prattling on about how he wished Petar would take up the rings again someday. “You’re so strong, there’s no reason why you couldn’t do more than just muscle ups and levers. I’d love to see you get an inverted cross. Can you imagine how your chest would develop...” The older man trailed off and abruptly looked behind them, toward a small side street they had just passed. A look of fear flashed over his face as his head swiveled toward an approaching black car. “Shit! Something’s wrong!” he barked and grabbed Petar by the arm.

The young gymnast froze as a group of three dangerous looking men ran out of the alley. His lover yanked hard on his arm and tried to move him away from them, but suddenly stopped when the black car pulled up next to them and three more guys jumped out. “Fuck! Fuck!” the older man cursed, backing away from the road, ending up against the wall of the neighboring building. “They have knives!” he yelled a warning at Petar, who was still sluggish with terror. Everything seemed to slow down as he saw the half a dozen attackers flick out their knives as they approached him. The lead man was a rat-faced greasy looking guy with a predatory smile on his face. Petar saw his death in the dark eyes and the glinting knife. Unable to think of anything else to do, he involuntarily put his hands up to block the thrusting blade, expecting to feel it slicing through the delicate flesh and bone in a split second.

Then something completely nonsensical happened. The knives of the attackers abruptly wrenched themselves out of their wielder’s hands, spun in the air and sheathed themselves violently in various body parts. Chests, throats, one even lodged with a sickening wet sound in one of the assassin’s eyes. The crunch of the sharp metal breaking through cartilage and bone made Petar want to vomit. A spray of blood fountained out and narrowly missed the terrified young man as a throat was slit by a seemingly possessed blade. He jumped with fear as a hand landed on his shoulder. A high tenor yelled in his ear, “Come on! We have to get out of here!” Following the trusted voice blindly, he stumbled for a few steps then broke out into a run, fleeing the horrific scene of slaughter.

…

The next thing Petar was aware of was entering their apartment and standing there dazed in the entryway to their living room. Nikola shoved a glass of water into his numb hand and guided him to sit on the sofa. “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” the soft tenor voice said firmly. “They’re dead.” Petar absently sipped the water then said softly, “I haven’t seen anyone die since, since the fire...” The older man sat next to him carefully and muttered, “You saw it happen? How awful...” Petar nodded slowly, “I tried to save him, but the flames were too much. I yelled but he wouldn’t wake up. Maybe he was dead already from the smoke.” Nikola was silent for a long time then said, “I’m sorry I had to kill them like that in front of you. There wasn’t time for anything else.”

Petar breathed shallowly with fear, feeling the crawling sensation of his hair standing on end. “It-It was you?!” Nikola sat very still and whispered gently, “Yes, I turned their knives against them.” The young man cringed away from his cousin and shut his eyes, trying to block out his terror. After a few moments, he managed to ask, “You can do that? Like a superpower or something?” The older man hummed in the affirmative, “Uh-huh, something like that. A vestige of my vampirism. I used to be able to generate electricity as well as magnetism-” “Magnetism, like Magneto in the X-men?” Nikola chuckled softly, “You’ve heard of that, huh? Yes, just like that.”

Petar turned his head to glance at the deadly mutant next to him. “Magneto’s the bad guy you know...With the way you killed them, I...I have to wonder...” He couldn’t help breathing rapidly with fear as he asked the question, “You’re not a bad guy, are you?” Nikola’s cold steel gray eyes looked into his own calmly as he answered the question with a question, “What do you think?”


	15. Chapter 15

Nikola watched his cousin’s eyes carefully as he waited for the young man to answer his question. It was obvious he was frightened of him at the moment, but it was understandable after seeing such violence. The muscular young man spent a few minutes forcing himself to breathe deeply until he calmed down enough to think straight. He opened his mouth and said carefully, “I could use more information before I say anything.” Nikola nodded amiably and waited. “Um, how many people have you killed?” The older man sat there, thinking back over the many decades of his long life. In actuality, he had lost count...but he didn’t want to say that. “I fought against a criminal organization called the Cabal. They were responsible for Helen’s daughter’s death. In revenge, Ashley’s father and I killed twenty-seven people. There were other incidents where I had to defend myself and my friends, like today. To survive, I had to learn to be ruthless.”

Petar shuddered then suddenly asked, “You said you used to be a vampire...did you kill people because of that?” Nikola smiled grimly and shook his head. “No, not that I didn’t want to. Helen chained me up in her basement and let me starve until she realized I could drink animal blood. It was miserable though, the thirst! Any time I saw another person, I had the strongest urge to kill them for their blood. Eventually, Helen compounded a medicine that suppressed the urge. It’s not difficult to make. I have the formula memorized, so you don’t need to worry that I’ll hurt you or anyone if I regain my immortality.”

The young man’s eyes were stormy, his brows furrowed with distrust. After a moment, he said, “Before, I thought you were just mentally ill, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe you really were a vampire... Did you have to stay out of the sun, avoid garlic, things like that?” Nikola shook his head. “I told you there’s a lot of bullshit in those legends. There were a few differences. I didn’t need to eat, though I could still eat to taste, and I could drink though it had very little effect. I had to have about two or three liters of blood a day to feel good, but I could go for several days without if I had to. I would heal within minutes of being injured, except burns. Those would take days. Any injury meant an increase in thirst of course. I stopped aging completely, was about four times faster and over five times stronger. I could generate about three thousand watts of electricity unassisted, and I could channel and control considerably more. It was very useful for my research, not to mention for safety reasons. Now all that is gone, except I retained just enough control over electricity to be able to generate an electromagnetic field. It allows me to move any ferrous metal-”

The young athlete interrupted, “Wait a minute, why didn’t you use that when Lazar and his friends attacked us?” Nikola smiled ruefully, “It’s pretty hard to grab onto anything smaller than say a wristwatch. The only metal I could sense on them was their zippers, which isn’t enough to actually move a person. I guess I could have undressed them, if I’d had time to concentrate hard enough...” he chuckled at the thought of pulling their pants down during that fight. Petar broke in, “So, a knife is big enough-” “Yes, that much steel is very easy to move. Since it’s obvious those guys were hired to kill you, I will carry a couple knives from now on to protect you. You should probably do the same.”

Petar shook his head. “I could never stab someone. You saw what happened...I was so scared I couldn’t move.” The young gymnast hunched over in shame at his moment of weakness. Nikola tried to comfort him, “That’s normal. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you.” Petar looked up at his lover, his blue gray eyes dilated with anxiety. “You’ve always taken care of your family and friends, haven’t you?” Nikola nodded solemnly and replied, “I will protect you with my life.” The twenty-year-old's shoulders slumped as he finally relaxed a bit. Curling up, he put his head under the older man’s chin, resting his ear against his chest and listening to the soothing sound of his lover’s heartbeat. Nikola wrapped his arms gently around his frightened cousin and listened to the soft sound of his breathing until the baritone voice whispered, “You’re a good guy to me...” The older man smiled and kissed the young man’s soft black hair.


	16. Chapter 16

“Why do you keep checking your phone? You know I think it’s rude to do that at the table.” Petar shot the older man a glare as he sliced his steak. Nikola thought the young man looked rather sexy that way, but quickly put his phone away. “Just checking up on job leads. I really need to get back to work on something. Training with you is fun and all, but I don’t deal well with being mentally idle.” The young athlete nodded, looking troubled by his reply. After a few minutes of silent eating, he gathered himself and said, “You must find me boring. I mean, a genius with a guy like me, what will we do when we run out of things to talk about?” Nikola chuckled, “Well, there’s always sex.” Petar shook his head, “You’ll get tired of me eventually. And I worry you’ll miss being with a woman someday.”

The older man sighed, wishing he didn’t have to have this conversation. “I noticed you didn’t think about yourself. You’ve only had sex with me. When you’ve had enough of me, won’t you want to try out other guys? One partner for life is a lot to ask from a person.” The young athlete frowned and looked at his lover with sad, worried eyes. “You won’t ask me to let you be with other people, will you? I just, I couldn’t bear it.” Nikola raised a brow cynically. “I really doubt it will be _me_ asking _you_ for that in a few years.” Petar felt hurt by the accusation and shot back, “Believe me, my love is real. I don’t want anyone else and I never will. But, please, don’t ask me to stand by and let other people fuck you. I think it would drive me crazy.” His cousin nodded and said dismissively, “Sure. So long as we’re together, I won’t. But it’s not like being married you know.” The young man smiled at the word and eagerly offered, “I really would want to marry you. I...I could be good for you...”

Nikola narrowed his eyes, smiled tightly and stated, “You just want to go to America.” The young Serb scowled resentfully at the accusation. “That’s not why! Yes, it would be nice to go there, so we could marry, or even just be honest about our relationship with everyone, but I-I want a real relationship. A commitment. We’re family, but...I want to be even closer. I want to know that you’ll never leave me.” The older man shook his head and thought, ‘ _To be that young and naïve...’_ “People get married, thinking like you do, that it will keep the other person with them forever, but it’s not true. Things happen. They fall out of love. They get divorced and never see each other again. Well, unless they have children together, of course.” Nikola looked down at the table pensively, lost in his own world for a moment.

“Did you ever have children?” the low baritone asked softly. Steel gray eyes met his intensely as the older man said, “No. Never.” Petar felt a deep sense of disquiet. Children was something he could never give. Unable to let it go he asked, “Do you want children?” There was a long silence, until the older man came to a decision. Mercilessly, he explained, “I can’t. I’m infertile. It would take developing an experimental procedure. Probably some skin stem cells could be altered to create functional sex cells, but as Helen would say, my grasp of the biological sciences is inadequate. I already asked her to help and she refused, mainly because she doesn’t want to marry me. And she didn’t want to have my children either.” After gathering himself for a moment, he continued, “Since I am mortal now, I would have liked to have descendants and really, you’re the closest thing I have to that. So, personally, I’m not concerned about the future of our relationship very much. I already know I will always value you as the most precious thing I have. I will care for you and protect you. I love you and I’ll never leave you.”

Petar was comforted by his cousin’s words but still felt a niggling dissatisfaction. The bond of family was enough for his lover, but for himself... He really wanted to inspire passionate romantic devotion in his lover. Not just friendship, familial loyalty and lust. He wished that there was something he could do to make Nikola look at him with the look in his eyes that he got when he spoke about Helen. Unable to figure out what he might be able to do about his feelings, he simply took his cousin’s hand in his own and replied, “I love you too.”

...

That night Nikola instructed his muscular lover to kneel on the bed. “Just be still. I want to get it in myself.” He got on his hands and knees in front of the young man and backed up until his buttocks made contact with the velvety skin of a hot erection. “Mm...hold it for me against my...my hole.” Nikola blushed, looking down at the coverlet while he pressed his cleaned and lubricated asshole against the stiff cock. The thickness was painful as he slowly stretched his anus around it, pushing back onto the wide head and pulling off, over and over. Gradually the tight little hole loosened and began accepting the intrusion. He moaned softly, letting himself enjoy the sensation of working the large manhood into his body. “Oh god, fuck, fuck...I’m taking it...” he muttered, wondering briefly if Petar was having a hard time letting him use him like this. “Tell me when you start getting close. Other than that, just let me enjoy myself, okay?” he instructed imperiously. Satisfied when his cousin grunted affirmatively, he experimentally pushed himself back, making the cock skewer him fully. It was so large it was a bit uncomfortable to have it all the way inside, but the sensation of being stuffed was arousing. He squeezed his muscles lightly once, making Petar groan.

With a smile, Nikola started moving back and forth on the big dick, happily moaning with pleasure as the hardness pressed against his prostate. “Uh...oh yeah, that feels so good...I love using your cock this way, making you control yourself while I fuck myself. Fuck, ugh, god...” He could feel a heavy warmth growing in his abdomen, radiating out into his whole body. The sensation was incredible, not like a regular orgasm at all. Those usually stayed centered around his penis, but this...he felt his nipples hardening as he panted and moaned. After several long moments of enjoying the throbbing sensations of pleasure he found he wanted more. “Thrust a little...” he commanded and whined at the intense sensation as he was instantly obeyed. “Yes, harder!” he panted frantically as the large hands gripped his narrow hips and his lover ploughed into him in earnest.

Nikola was rapidly finding he couldn’t get enough of the sensation and pushed himself eagerly back onto the pistoning rod. Still unsatisfied he straightened his legs and lay down prone, “Get on top of me. Yes, let me feel your power...” he demanded, encouraging the heavy body to cover his own, pinning him to the bed with its weight. It felt like his legs were being split apart by the pounding hips slapping against his buttocks roughly. He growled in protest when the delicious sensation slowed. “Uh, I’m going to come. Do you want me to pull out?” the baritone rumbled from just behind his right ear. He groaned, rubbing his aching dick against the soft coverlet. “I’m so close, put your hand under me and jerk me off while you finish.” The young man obeyed, every thrust driving Nikola’s cock through the tight grip of his large hand. The overwhelming sensation finally drove the slender man to orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re such a sexy bitch!” Petar groaned as the older man spasmed and yelped under him, the sight making him dump what felt like the largest load of his life in that hot little ass. He lay panting on top of the blissed out older man for a while, then started to worry a little about the aftermath. ‘ _Will he be upset again? Maybe I shouldn’t have called him a bitch...’_ “Nikola? Did I do a good job?” he whispered in the shell of his cousin’s ear. “Mmmhmm...” his slender lover hummed affirmatively, obviously feeling too euphoric to care about his possible faux pas. “Stay in me for a while. It feels so good...” Petar calmed himself and hugged the older man with a lazy smile. It did feel wonderfully relaxing, letting himself soften inside his lover’s warm body. He buried his face in the nape of his neck. “You smell so good...” he muttered, then kissed the soft hair. “Love you so much...”

Nikola was enjoying the attention very much. His lover’s heavy body pressing down on him felt so warm and soothing. He moaned softly as the large hands slid over his chest, thick fingers gently pinching and rolling his nipples. The sensation shot straight to his groin, the hot flesh swelling slowly, until he was erect again. He squeezed around Petar’s soft dick, enjoying making the man jump and swear. “ _Jebote!_ You like having your nipples played with, is that it?” The lean, lanky man hummed in the affirmative and kept rhythmically squeezing the cock, hoping to feel it harden inside of him. When it obliged, he shuddered and groaned, imagining the expanding shaft becoming lubricated with the cum it left inside of him. “I’m your _kurva_...” he whispered, deliberately using the feminine form of the word ‘whore.’ “No one’s ever done this to me before you. And now, you’ve made me love you for it.”

Petar started gently grinding his hips against the tight little buttocks of his lover, shallowly thrusting into his hot, wet hole. “Not a whore to me...Right now you will be my sweet _žena_ instead.” With that romantic declaration, he set about trying to give his lover the best orgasm of his life, taking his aching cock in one hand, and rolling a tight nipple with the other. He ground into the other man, forcing moan after moan from his lips. Overwhelmed by the multiple sensations, the submissive man whimpered, “Fuck, you’re a virtuoso of sex! Keep doing that!” Petar smiled into his lover’s neck, then gently bit down. The lean body under him bucked, shuddered and came with a muffled scream. “Yes, yes, let it all out.” he encouraged as cum spilled over his fist. Once his lover’s body became limp, he pulled out of him with a wet noise, then flipped him over to face up. The dazed expression on his face was so satisfying, but he wanted to do one better. Mounting the passive man’s chest, he dangled his large balls over his lover’s lips. “Open up. I want you to feel them filling your mouth while I jack off over your face.”

Nikola grimaced as the sloppy wet balls rubbed against his face. Petar’s fist was stroking his thick erection, streaked with the slippery white semen from his last load. The sharp smell of cum mixed with the delicious musk of his testicles. Despite the disgusting mess, Nikola obediently opened his mouth wide, letting the young man grab his sack and push it fully inside. The submissive man struggled with the stuffed, choking feeling of being overwhelmed by the delicate, fertile organs. He watched passively as the young man pleasured himself over him, concentrating on submitting to his lover’s sexual desires. Finally, with a guttural moan, the muscular athlete ejaculated over his face. The thick ropes of cum landed first on the pillow and his hair, then as the pressure decreased, he was forced to close his eyes to avoid the stinging sensation of it hitting him there. His lover pulled his balls out of his mouth with a rude slurping noise and got off his chest.

Keeping his eyes tightly closed, he waited until Petar began wiping the mucus-like fluid off his face, then quickly took the towel from him and finished cleaning himself up. Carefully opening his eyes afterward, he noted that his eyelashes were clumped together with the thick, viscous fluid. A bit alarmed, he headed for the bathroom and washed his face off in the sink. Glancing in the mirror, he looked at himself. There was still cum in his mussed black hair, his wet face was slack with satisfied lust. He could feel a thin line of semen dripping down the inside of his right thigh. He looked and felt completely debauched. Shaking his head bemusedly, he headed for the shower wondering how he could ever have let insecurity over his masculinity keep him from this level of pleasure.


	17. Chapter 17

“Um, guh-di-yea-yeh...um, Savski Venac?” Helen stumbled over the consonant clusters, wishing she had practiced speaking Nikola’s native language more. The tall young woman she was asking for directions smiled charmingly and replied in perfect English, “Are you trying to find a friend’s apartment? There’s quite a few in that part of the city.” The Englishwoman sighed in relief, “Oh thank god, yes. I’m trying to find the Parkview Building on the Waterfront. Do you know how I can get there?” The young woman was so kind she walked with Helen to the nearest bus stop and told the driver where she wanted to go. With a parting wave, she instructed, “Don’t worry. The driver speaks a little English and will let you know when it’s your stop. Then just walk toward the Waterfront and it will be on your right.” Helen thanked the young woman, surprised by the level of friendliness and English ability of Serbians and had no problem getting to the apartment building Nikola’s GPS signal was originating from.

This part of the city was modern and polished, a forest of glass and steel apartments overlooking the Sava River. The high-rises stood in great contrast to the gritty communist architecture and still battle-scarred buildings found in much of Belgrade. In one infamous sector of the city, the ruins of several apartment buildings still stood unrepaired and undemolished, well after NATO bombed them during the 1990’s.

“Of course, he’d pick someplace like this...” she muttered, then entered the elegant lobby. Consulting her GPS tracker, she pinpointed Nikola’s location in a spacious two bedroom flat on the twelfth floor. She shared the elevator ride with a middle aged but still elegant mother of three. The young children asked her questions in Serbian, but when they heard her speak in English quickly switched over. “Are you English or American?” the boy who couldn’t have been more than five asked excitedly. The children asked about London when she said English, but before she could say much more than “It’s a very large city...” the elevator doors opened. The children admonished her to talk to them again some time as they parted. “What charming people they have here...I guess that’s where Nikola gets it...” she mused aloud as she followed the GPS signal to apartment 1248.

She rapped smartly on the door and prepared to wait patiently, figuring that Nikola would take his time examining unexpected guests through the peephole and no doubt have to unlock several locks. When the door opened almost immediately, she was surprised. A muscular twenty-something young man with short black hair opened the door and regarded her suspiciously. “ _Ko si ti? Mogu li da ti pomognem?”_ Helen was startled for a moment that it wasn’t Nikola greeting her, then she looked at the stranger more closely. The high bridge of his Roman nose, the icy blue eyes under a strong brow, it was clear he was Nikola’s relative, perhaps a grandnephew. Mustering her best Serbian phrase, she said, “ _Tahzhim Nikolu.”_ His eyes widened in surprise, a brief expression of fear flashing over his face, revealing just how young he really was. Helen thought he might even be a teenager. Had he been instructed to conceal his relative’s presence? Frankly, she wouldn’t put it past the duplicitous ex-vampire to get his family to lie for him. “Nikola no...not here...” he stuttered out in heavily accented English.

Angry at what seemed to be an obvious deception, Helen scowled, trying to figure out how to deal with the ridiculous situation Nikola had placed them both in. Realizing that neither of them were proficient enough in each other’s language to be able to explain that she knew very well that Nikola was in there because she was tracking his phone, she decided on the direct approach and tried pushing past the young man while yelling her friend’s name. “Nikola! It’s Helen! Get your ass out here!” The young man quickly got out of her way, seeming intimidated by her, but spoke rapidly at her, his voice raised in anger. Ignoring the incomprehensible words, she looked around the room not seeing her target.

“Where are you?” she muttered as she awkwardly came to a halt in the middle of the room. The young man stared at her fearfully, keeping out of reach but edged toward one of the doors. Probably he was trying to head her off from Nikola’s bedroom. Realizing that if she tried to get past him, he might feel the need to attempt to physically stop her, Helen paused, unsure what to do. She didn’t want to risk having to hurt him, but certainly couldn’t just keep standing there waiting. Not sure what else she could do, she quickly dialed Nikola’s number with the burner phone she had brought. The sound of a cellphone ringing from the expected direction made both of them look at the door then each other.

After another tense moment, the muscular youth slowly raised his hand and beckoned, “Helen?” He turned toward the door and gestured for her to follow. Cautiously, the tall woman followed him into the enclosed space, only to find it empty, the phone ringing on the nightstand. He walked over to the closet and opened the door, gesturing inside. “Not here,” he pointed out, shooting her a snippy look. He waved at the entrance and followed her out, then led her to the other room and did the same. Helen relaxed, realizing with disappointment that he had been telling the truth.

They stared at one another for a few moments, then the young man sighed and went to the kitchenette, opened a cabinet and got out a water glass. He quickly popped some ice into it with a jingle, then filled it with mineral water from a new bottle. Coming back to the table he placed it on her side, then sat down across from her. When she hesitated to join him, he scowled lightly and looked pointedly at her with narrowed eyes and shook his head. The mannerisms were so familiar, she couldn’t help but smile. The boy was so obviously related to her Nikola. Figuring she was supposed wait, she sat down, picked up the glass and sipped the ice water. “Thank you.” He waved it away and mumbled, “Welcome.”

…

The slim Serb swanned into the room, a towel wrapped around his neck, in nothing more than swimming briefs and sandals. He was babbling a rapid stream of Serbian with a wide grin on his face, when he saw Helen sitting there at the table. A brief look of surprise was followed by an annoyed sneer. “What are you doing here Helen? Stalking is so unattractive.” He sniped as he closed and locked the door behind himself. Helen sat as composed as possible as her wiry near naked friend padded across the room and sat down next to her at the table. The two men had a short exchange when Helen opened her mouth to speak, forcing her to wait for them to finish talking. During that time, she found her eyes drawn to the breadth of Nikola’s shoulders, the newly defined muscles of his chest, his trim waist and the lean muscles of his long legs. Realizing after a minute that she was starting to leer, she stared down at his large feet, observing his especially prominent big toe amongst the others. Even his feet looked masculine. It was shocking to see him so bare, and so much more athletic than usual.

After a long moment, she realized the room was silent and looked up to find the two dark haired men staring at her. The possible great-nephew's eyes narrowed and darted back and forth between the two of them suspiciously. Before she had time to identify the emotion in the young man’s eyes, Nikola spoke, “Well, Helen? It’s obvious you couldn’t stay away from me. Are the memories of me keeping you up at night?” The blatant sexuality of his tone usually made her scoff with disgust but this time, shocking even herself, she blushed and stammered, “What?! I-no, I came to warn you.” The ex-vampire cocked his head at her quizzically, not having elicited that particular reaction from her since the 19th century. He huffed amused by the situation and smirked insufferably at her. “Should I go get dressed? You seem distracted.”

Refusing to let him get to her, the Englishwoman put on her best scowl. “Shut up Nikola! Shut up and listen, because I’m the only chance you have to get out of military prison or worse! The Office of Internal Affairs is working with Interpol to track you down. They know you’re in Belgrade and it’s literally a matter of days or hours before they will show up to arrest you. They’re going to extradite you to the US to face military court-” “That’s not even legal. I’m still an American citizen-” “They claim you’re legally deceased and are treating you as a hostile foreign national-” “That makes no sense-” “The Department of Homeland Security is calling you a possible double agent suspected of funding terrorism-” “What _aren’t_ they accusing me of? This is crazy.” Nikola abruptly got up, went over to his young relative and muttered in his ear. The muscular youth protested, but at a stern look from the taller man, sighed with frustration, got up and left the apartment. As he was leaving, he shot Helen a dirty look and shut the door loudly on his way out.

Suddenly alone together, the two old friends and on-again-off-again lovers took a moment to evaluate each other. Helen finally asked the question she’d been wanting to ask since she’d arrived at the apartment, “Who’s the bodybuilder? Your nephew?” Nikola casually walked to a closet and threw the towel in a hamper then said over his shoulder as he padded to his bedroom, “He’s my cousin through my paternal uncle. I thought they were all killed during the war, but apparently someone in his line survived and had children.” He stripped off the bathing suit without bothering to shut the door, giving her a partial view of his pale, round buttocks. She looked away to avoid watching him dress, but he made it unavoidable by coming back out to the table while still buttoning up his shirt. The slender man continued, “He has a competition tomorrow that he’s been training years for. How likely is it that any of these people will come for me before then?” Helen tsked, annoyed by his irresponsible attitude. “You can’t take the chance. Let him do it on his own and come back to Canada with me. You’ll be harder to extradite from there with me negotiating for you.”

Nikola sat down heavily across the table from her. “What about afterward? He doesn’t have any support here except me. And I...I can’t just leave him. He’ll be devastated.” Helen shook her head. “You’re talking like he didn’t have a life before you. Where’s his parents?” The slender man frowned sadly, “They’re gone. He lost everything in a house fire about three years ago. I’m all he’s got.” Helen was brought up short, “That’s terrible...but, the way you are, you know you’ll cause him more trouble than-” “He loves me.” Nikola interrupted abruptly, his face flushed with feeling, “And-and I love him.” The woman was flabbergasted.

After a long shocked silence, she tried to gather her scattered thoughts, “You’re...with your cousin? That’s...well, I guess it is a pretty distant relation-” “It’s five generations Helen. Come on, we’re doing a lot better than your Royal Family.” “-but he’s so young. Is he even legal?” Nikola huffed angrily, “Yes! He just turned twenty. God, what kind of question-” “I just thought-you know consent is awfully low here. Even so, we both know how big an age gap there is. How can you expect...And the money issue...won’t it just turn into a kind of exploitation-” “I’d never-” Helen barked out a bitter laugh, “Exploit others for your own ends? We both know that’s not true.” Nikola sighed tiredly, “He needs me. If I can give him what he wants-” She reaching out to him pleading, “You’ll never know if he loves you, or if it’s just because of that! You deserve better than that Nikola.” Nikola finally lost his temper, “What, like you?! Don’t make me laugh! I don’t care if they arrest me tomorrow, I have to be there for him and you can’t stop me!”

Helen couldn’t understand how the conversation had gotten away from her so fast. “You’re crazy! Don’t you realize that it’ll be worse for him if they arrest you? They could put you away for life-” “We both know I’m too valuable. I’ll cut a deal, do whatever it takes-” “You egotistical, selfish little man! It’ll be the death ray fiasco all over again, but this time I won’t be able to rescue you! You’ll be their slave and the world will burn due to your stubbornness!”


	18. Chapter 18

Petar paced the streets, circling the Waterfront over and over, lost in an agony of emotion. _'Helen. She finally showed up. God, what am I going to do?! They were flirting, I’m sure of it. Nikola was hitting on her and she was staring and blushing...This can’t be happening!'_ The young man felt sick. He tried to remind himself that Nikola loved him, that his relationship with Helen was over, but...' _Would he go back to her? It would easier for him to be with a woman...She’s beautiful, a scientist, around his age, they’ve known each other forever...How can I compete with that?'_

Sitting down on a rock, he hung his head wondering if his time with Nikola was like an alluring dream that would soon be over. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly took it out.

“Yes?”

“ _Dragi?_ I’m sorry I asked you to go. Could you come home and make dinner? I hope you don’t mind, but Helen will be sleeping in your bed tonight. She neglected to reserve lodging. You’ll sleep with me, okay?”

Petar wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. Nikola had never called him any endearments before, except ‘dearest brother’ when he got sentimental. It seemed obvious he was staking a claim for Helen’s benefit, but at the same time, why would he allow her to stay overnight? It was a confusing mess of mixed messages.

“Um, sure, I don’t have to make something for her too, do I?”

“No, no. She can just order in if she gets hungry. I guess...it’s an awkward situation... I’m sorry about this. Just please, come home now.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

He walked rapidly to their building and took the elevator, rather than the usual twelve flights of stairs. Tapping his foot then pacing as the car ascended, he burst out of the claustrophobic space as soon as the doors opened. Rapping on the door, it opened immediately to the sight of a worried looking Nikola waving him in. “Um, let’s eat first then I have a lot to tell you. Helen brought some bad news, but don’t worry, I have a plan. Okay?”

Petar nodded and went to the sink to wash his hands. Heating up some cold steak with green beans and rice wasn’t exactly what he would call cooking, but he enjoyed doing such a little thing for his lover. After assembling the plates, he set out the little vase shaped glasses called _cokanji._ Luckily, they only had two, so he didn’t have to think about if it was rude not to offer a glass to their ‘guest.’ He grabbed the bottle of _rakija_ and poured for the two of them, then put it down on the table.

Nikola sat down and asked for some ice water. Petar quickly got it for him and sat down next to him. Picking up the _cokanj,_ Petar looked into his lover’s steel gray eyes. “ _Živio.”_ Nikola held his gaze as they drank slowly, feeling the burn of the strong liquor. The young man poured another for the two of them, then they started on dinner. Petar self-consciously neglected to cross himself before eating, aware of Helen sitting in the living room, glancing at them occasionally. It was rubbing him the wrong way to ignore her, even if she was an unwelcome guest. Before he gave into the demands of his good upbringing, Nikola started talking.

“The US government finally got their act together. Helen came to tell me they know I’m here and will try and arrest me in a few days. Um, of course I won’t leave you, but we will have to leave the country.” The older man paused for a long time, clearly uncertain of himself, then finally presented his plan. “I’ve had a job offer from the Russian Ministry of Defense. They, well, an agent of theirs took a blood sample from me, without my knowledge, before when I was a vampire. They’ve offered it to me as an incentive if I work on their hypersonic missile program.” Petar’s fork stopped midway to his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. Nikola winced when the young man slammed the flatware down, scattering rice across the table.

“Have you lost your mind?! The Russians?! Working on weapons of mass destruction!” Nikola raised his voice, trying desperately to persuade him. “It’s good work! They’ve been having trouble with using a nuclear power source when I could so easily convert it to a wireless electric system. They agreed to devote some satellites to power transmission-” Petar jumped to his feet and yelled in the older man’s face, “I don’t care about the technical problems! If they have problems, good! Would you really want to work in an arms race that will lead us straight to World War Three?!” Nikola leaned away from his furious lover in his chair then said softly, “Of course not. But the Russians won’t extradite me. They’ll give you a long-term visa, they’ll provide housing, a salary, funding, a lab for my own work. And once I reverse engineer the serum, I can give it to you also. We can be together forever.”

Petar stared at the sincerity on his cousin’s face then sat down heavily in his chair. “You’re...you really are crazy. Not because of the vampire thing or your magnetism or any of that. I just can’t believe that you think that I could ever support you working on making war... Look at this country! How people have suffered, how they died! You know what such a living hell does to people! Why?! Why would you even consider it?” Nikola breathed deeply, blinking rapidly as he looked down at his hands. “If the Americans arrest me, they will take everything I have and put me in jail for the rest of my life. The only way out will be to make a deal. They want me to create a counter measure to those hypersonic missiles, a particle beam weapon to shoot them down during the launch sequence. They’ve been after me for that one for...I don’t know, the last eighty years or so. As you can see, I am a pawn in their game, and I’ll end up working for one or the other. At least in Russia they’re prepared to offer me a good deal.”

Petar shook his head, not sure what to say. The whole situation was overwhelming. “I don’t know...being gay in Serbia is bad enough, but Russia? We could never relax...I’d have to live in fear even more than now.” Nikola tentatively put his hand on Petar’s shoulder. “I’m...I’m sorry...you will come with me, won’t you? I love you so much...I can’t go without you.” The young athlete shook his head, “I don’t know. I need to think. You know I love you, but this...I just really need time to think.”

…

Helen watched the two men argue until the younger man grew discouraged and sat down shaking his head. Having been in his position many times before, Helen felt it was obvious what was going on despite only being able to understand a handful of words. Nikola was outlining some ill-advised course of action without any real consideration for how it would affect others, and his cousin was coming to grips with just how messed up his lover’s thought process really was and was reconsidering the relationship altogether. The only difference from her own reaction seemed to be that the young man, despite his intimidating appearance, was too much of a pushover. It seemed likely that he would go along with whatever the older, wealthier man had in mind. God knows what harebrained scheme he had come up with this time. Something to do with the Russians? Whatever. It wouldn’t work, so she dismissed it.

Helen felt disgusted by how Nikola had seduced his vulnerable young relative and was controlling the relationship with his money and his conniving mind. She’d known for a long time that he had an eye for muscular male flesh. He’d indulged in gambling on bare knuckle boxing matches during the 1890’s, until that young Serb he’d taken under his wing had died in his very first match. There was some connection between the two...Hadn’t he been the son of Nikola’s first girlfriend back in the old country? She’d seen the way he’d looked at the young man, his eyes dark with lust. But he’d also acted rather paternal toward the long-dead aspiring boxer. He’d unfortunately arranged the match where the young man had died. The depression he’d suffered afterward had lasted the better part of a year, then he’d gone right back to inventing as though nothing had happened. Helen wondered if this new young Serb had any idea what he was getting in to, being in a relationship with Nikola Tesla.


	19. Chapter 19

That night Nikola wanted to go down on him in the dark, under the covers of his bed. “No! Your ex is right in the next room and you know how thin the walls are!” Petar hissed turning away from the hungry mouth that was trying to engulf his flaccid cock. He lay on his side and curled up so Nikola couldn’t reach him. The lean body emerged from under the sheets and spooned him from behind, rubbing a half-hard erection against his buttocks. “Please...You’re so sexy...” the older man said, not bothering to lower his voice. It was obvious he was putting on a show for that woman. Furious at the blatant manipulation, Petar turned on his obnoxious lover, grabbed his narrow wrists and pinned him violently to the mattress. His heavy chest pressed against heaving ribs as he growled in Nikola’s face. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? If I fucked the hell out of you right now, so she could hear how much better I am for you...”

The high tenor moaned whorishly, “Yes! Oh my god, yes!” Petar could feel the man’s erection rutting against his thigh. “ _Bog te jebo!_ You’re such a slut! I should slap you for trying to make our sex life into a show for your ex!” The younger man spat in his lover’s ear, squeezing his thin wrists hard enough to hurt a little. The older man finally seemed to understand that he was genuinely angry and went limp under him. A soft sniffle could be heard in the dark.

Concerned that he’d been too rough on the man, Petar let go of his wrists and wrapped his arms around the lanky body. “Hey...are you okay?” he whispered gently, comforting his chastened lover like he was no more than a scolded child. “Sorry...” the tenor said softly. The muscular young man sighed and hugged the older man briefly, then pulled away. “It’s fine. Just don’t do something like that again...” A pair of soft lips pressed a quick kiss to his bare shoulder. “I won’t. I’m sorry.” The older man lay down quietly behind him and seemed to settle down. Petar reached briefly behind himself and patted a narrow hip. “Uh-huh. Go to sleep. I have a big day tomorrow.” With a sigh, Nikola obeyed.

Petar lay there in the dark, unable to sleep. After a while he heard his lover’s breathing even out followed by faint snoring. Usually, he thought the sound was rather cute, but at the moment it was mostly annoying. He really preferred to be in his own bed and couldn’t understand how other people were able to sleep with someone else next to them. Nikola was out like a light and he wondered idly how many other people the man had fallen asleep next to in his long life. ‘ _I bet that woman was one of them. Just imagine, if she’d said yes, he’d be back in America, sleeping next to her right now. He still might...’_ The thought created a tightness in his chest, like the pumping of his heart was grinding to a halt. He wondered if he should have given in to the older man’s advances. Then maybe his rival would be the one feeling this way. He knew he could have made Nikola cry with pleasure. The man loved to worship his cock. That was something no woman could ever give him.

He tried to imagine what the former couple had been like together. The Serbian-American certainly received more than his fair share of female attention. Petar couldn’t help but notice the way women’s eyes would linger on the confident older man. He was often annoyed by his lover’s blatant enjoyment of their longing glances. It had been shocking to see how his mannerisms changed when speaking politely to women he didn’t know. The usual cutting remarks and challenging air was replaced with a perfect gentleman, soft-spoken and respectful. There was something patronizing about it sometimes, but nevertheless, women responded to such an elegant and charming man. He imagined that they thought he was great marriage material. If only they knew him better, they would probably run screaming.

Petar smiled a bit grimly at the thought, wondering why he wasn’t running away also. ‘ _He’s crazy, dangerous, a thief and a killer. But he’s also charming, loving, kind...not to mention incredible in bed. I can see what Helen sees in him, both the negative and the positive. But she’s known him for over a hundred years and decided not to tie her life to his... Am I making a mistake giving myself to him entirely without any reservations? He’d sell himself to the Russians if it would give him back his immortality, the power he’s obsessed with, and he would want me to become like him, so he would never have to lose me.’_

The young gymnast’s stomach clenched with anxiety. He certainly didn’t want to become a vampire, nor did he want to be a vampire’s lover. Frankly, he didn’t really even want to be the lover of a man developing nuclear weapons and he didn’t much like the idea of going to live in Russia either. Some Serbs felt the two countries were brothers, but Petar knew he’d fit in much better in a liberal country. ‘ _Maybe I should just tell him to turn himself in to the Americans. He’d still end up working on weapons but at least he’d be in a better country. He’d have to leave me behind, but...maybe he if he’s cooperative he could come back for me?’_

Petar imagined himself telling Nikola he would wait for him. Of the months and years passing, until he grew older all alone, left behind and then perhaps forgotten. Desolation rolled over him like a black cloud. Giving up on trying to solve his problems, he closed his eyes and pictured Nikola’s smile, trying to memorize the image like a mental photograph as he fell into a fitful sleep.

...

_Petar opened his eyes to complete blackness. Holding his hand in front of his face, he couldn’t see a thing. ‘Have I gone blind? It’s not that dark in Nikola’s bedroom...’ he felt next to himself, expecting to feel the wiry body of his lover, but only felt a ragged sleeping bag over a stone floor. Chillingly, he recognized his location. The crypt... Frantically, he felt around for the candle he kept next to him. At the base he found the lighter and lit the wick. Dim firelight illuminated the cave-like chamber, revealing the sarcophagus he slept next to every night he was homeless._

_With a whimper, he backed up against the wall, trying to make sense of his situation. ‘I can’t still be here...Was the last year just a dream?’ He pinched himself, trying to wake up. All that happened was his leg hurt. “No, no. This isn’t happening... Where...? What’s this?” His eyes alighted on something that didn’t belong. It was the ikon of his family saint. “Sveti Nikola. But this burned in the fire.” The feeling that something was terribly wrong intensified. Taking the inexplicable presence of the ikon of Saint Nicholas of Myra as a sign he crossed himself and prayed to the saint as he had since he was a child. A sound at the entrance of the crypt startled him out of his prayers and he lifted the candle to see what was there. “Who is it? I’m in here.”_

“ _Petar? What are you doing down here?” The familiar voice of his father cut through his soul like a knife. “Tata?” The husky middle-aged man descended into the grave, his wispy beard and balding head coming into focus in the dim candlelight. His father’s sad brown eyes met his own, crushing Petar’s heart with guilt, “Otac, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you! I’m a coward.” The older man sat down across from him and sighed softly, “My precious son...you did the best you could. If you had crossed the fire, you would have died with me-” A horrifying thought occurred to the distraught youth, “Am I dead now? Have you come to take me through the toll houses?” His father shook his head quickly, “No, this isn’t a spiritual trial. You’re perfectly alive. I’ve simply come to give you some advice.” The young athlete calmed a bit, trying to come to terms with the idea that the ghost of his father simply wanted to help him. “Alright, okay, I’m alive. What do you need to tell me? Is there something I should do?”_

_His father smiled crookedly, rubbing his balding head. “Well, you are in a bit of a situation at the moment, aren’t you? This man you’ve chosen, he doesn’t really have the best judgment...” Petar blushed, never having discussed his sexuality with his father. He had suspected his father knew, but simply never said anything. It was weird talking about his relationship with a ghost, but he figured it must be important. “Yes, I know. I don’t like his plans, but what can I do? I can’t help him-” “That’s not true. You may be poor, an ordinary person, alone except for your lover, but don’t ever think that you’re powerless! You’re stronger and smarter than you think. Your words have more influence than you realize. Now, you know what is right and wrong! Fight for what is right or the next time I see you, we will be headed for the toll houses. Do you understand?”_

_His father’s harsh tone rang in his ears like a physical blow. Petar sat very still, staring at his father’s face. Slowly, he nodded. “I will do as you say father, and I hope the next time I see you, I will have made you proud.” The old man nodded shortly then got to his feet. Beckoning to the young man, he ascended the stairs out of the crypt. “Let’s leave this place. You have life waiting for you...” Petar got to his feet and followed him into the light..._

…

Petar bolted upright in bed waking his lightly sleeping lover with his movements. “Wha-? Petar...d’you have a nightmare?” The tenor slurred, his voice foggy with sleep. The gray light of dawn was just starting to appear in the window. “Nikola, wake up! I have to talk to you!” The young man shook his lover awake and shoved him roughly until the svelte man sat up next to him. “God! Alright, I’m awake, what is it?” Nikola scowled, annoyed by the manhandling, and sat glaring at him in the dim lighting, arms crossed across his chest.

Petar took a deep breath, wondering what he was supposed to say. Deciding to just get right to the point he blurted out, “I want you to turn yourself in to the Americans. Don’t go to Russia. Don’t try to become a vampire again. Just contact the Americans and tell them you will give them the money you have, and if you have to work for them to make up the difference, just do it. I know you want your immortality back and you want to stay together, but what you want to do is wrong, and I can’t let you do it.”

The older man shot him with a look of disgust. “What the hell!? We’ve already talked about this! The Americans are no better than the Russians. In fact, in some ways they’re worse. Fucking hypocrites, the lot of them. And, what happened to you love me and will never leave me? That’s out the window now that I’m in trouble, is that it?” Petar groaned, “I do love you, but I can’t accept this vampire obsession-I don’t care if it’s real or not, I don’t want a life like that. And I have to convince you not to make missiles. Don’t do it! You’ll go to hell-”

His lover scoffed, looking amused by the turn the conversation had taken. “Oh, so _that’s_ it! Is that what your nightmare was about? Don’t be ridiculous! There’s only one god here, the one we create in our minds. Even with the power I’ve harnessed in the past, I’ve stood side by side with that god and created and destroyed at will. And it’s only a fraction of what I could do with enough money and enough time. You think that virtue is passing up this opportunity, but it’s not. You don’t understand how much I could accomplish with a limitless life. The amount of good I could do-” “Please, you’re not a god-” “As a vampire, I’m the closest thing there is!” Petar cringed at the sacrilegious words. “You’re a megalomaniac, is what you are...”

Nikola laughed bitterly, “You think I haven’t heard that before? You’re starting to sound just like Helen.” The young man ran his hands through his hair, frustrated with the realization that this was no doubt why the woman refused to commit to this maddening man. Suddenly, he pictured the couple arguing. The tall brunette woman matching the infuriating Serb word for word, blow for blow, every attack matched by that defiant _inat_ that didn’t care if it destroyed everything in its path, including itself. Realizing arguing was a losing strategy, the young man suddenly became perfectly calm. “Ok, you win. I’ll go with you to Russia. I won’t become a vampire, but I’ll stay with you. If you really think it is worth it, to risk nuclear war so you can regain your immortality and devote yourself to harnessing the power of nature, then I won’t try and stop you.”

The capitulation took the wind out of the inventor’s sails. “Oh, are you trying reverse psychology on me now? It won’t work. I know how you really feel.” Petar shook his head, “I mean it. I told you I’m yours forever. You know that I will suffer every day, knowing that I can never kiss you or even hold your hand in public. I will suffer knowing that you have sold yourself so that you can be immortal and live on without me-” “I don’t want you to age. You’re the one that wants that.” The young man talked over the interruption, “I will live in fear that nuclear war will happen, millions will die and civilization may be destroyed-” “Look, come on, they’re not dumb enough to actually-” “I will accept my own destruction or damnation or whatever you want to call it, so that I can give you everything I am. Because, this is all I have to give. You’ve asked me if I really love you. I have and I do and I will!”

Nikola shifted around uncomfortably in the bed. It was really quite ridiculous to be having such a serious conversation in his underwear. He felt distressed by his cousin’s total and complete capitulation to his will. He didn’t want the young man to act like his slave. His decisions weren’t the commandments of a god, that had to be obeyed no matter whether they were right or wrong. Disquieted by the sense of responsibility being placed on his shoulders, he began to feel a growing sense of doubt. “I...I love you too. You really mean it? You understand?” Not really believing the young man’s firm nod, he continued explaining, “I am a good person. People just don’t understand me. They think I just want power for myself, to control others or whatever. But that’s not it at all...” The young man looked at him with sincere curiosity, “What is it then?”

Nikola swallowed and said simply, “A man has to have power to be genuinely good. In fact, the more power he has the more virtuous he can be. Not just in the capacity to do good, like how wealth enables charity, or strength heroism, but also in the freedom from constraints on attaining excellence.” Petar took a deep breath and sighed, “I understand. You’re very well read in Classics you know. It sounds like an Ancient Roman is speaking through you.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked up at Nikola and said, “I was wrong when I said you’re effeminate. If anything, you are too masculine. Now I see why you want your immortality back, what drives your work, why you are attracted to me... everything. It’s okay. It’s who you are. I will love you for who you are, even if I disagree with you and it makes me suffer. I don’t care. I know I’m weak, but in this, you will see how strong my weakness can be.”

With that, the young man gently took his lover’s face in his hand and kissed him tenderly. Nikola held himself stiffly for a moment, then finally convinced of Petar’s sincerity, he relaxed completely for the first time and passionately returned the kiss to the man that was his perfect match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Serbian cultural concept of 'inat' is translated as 'obstinacy' 'stubborness' or 'spite' but none of those words really capture the sheer defiance it contains. A real life example of 'inat' is that when NATO bombed Serbia for 78 days in 1999 many Serbs held BBQ's on their apartment rooftops, wore T-Shirts with the Target logo printed on them, attended the annual Belgrade fun run in record numbers, and walked across bridges extra slowly. Essentially, large numbers of regular people began essentially daring NATO to murder them. Crazy Serbs are a thing for a reason! Also, this chapter had my favorite Serbian curse, 'Bog te jebo' which means 'May God fuck you' Ouch!


	20. Chapter 20

Petar knocked gently on the bedroom door. After a few minutes the tall brunette woman opened it. They stared at one another for a few moments, then Petar sighed and handed her a piece of paper. “Read please.” he mumbled, wincing at his thick accent. Helen looked at the paper. There were a few sentences in German on it. “Sorry, I’m terrible at reading German. Grammar you know. Maybe...S _prechen Sie Deutsch?”_ Petar shook his head regretfully, mumbling in equally poor German, “ _Nein. Sehr schlecht.”_ The young man looked at her obviously distressed, then took the paper back. With a sigh, he shook his head and shrugged then wrote something new and handed it to her.

_Latinam legere potes?_

She smiled delighted and nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes!” then proceeded to write a response.

...

Nikola came out to the kitchen expecting to find breakfast already made by his sweet lover, only to find the young man rapidly writing on a piece of paper and passing it back and forth with Helen. “What are you two up to?” he muttered as he made himself a cup of coffee, then peered over Petar’s shoulder. The page was halfway full of what appeared to be a conversation in Latin. “Oh yeah, that’s right, your father taught you Latin when you were a girl.” He commented in Helen’s direction with a faint smile that slowly slipped off his handsome face as the two most important people in his life ignored him.

“Um, I hope you’re only saying good things about me _Dragi.”_ He sat down next to his lover and watched anxiously as the silent conversation continued. The intensity with which the two were writing was a bit disconcerting. Not knowing what they were saying about him was maddening. “Please, Petar. Tell me what you’re writing...” he asked softly near his lover’s ear. The young man replied absently, “Don’t worry about it. I’m just telling Helen how much I love you. Go ahead and make some toast, okay? We’re almost done.” Not knowing what else to do, the older man sighed and got up to open the bread box.

…

Helen had been pleasantly surprised to find such an unusual common language with the young man. He was really quite erudite in Latin, perfect grammar with an excellent command of idiom and literary style. Petar had asked her if she had any questions for him, about his relationship with Nikola, and she had taken the opportunity to find out basic facts about the young man that Nikola had neglected to tell her. The story of the loss of his father was tragic and his period of homelessness was awful. She could understand his devotion to the man that had rescued him from his unfortunate condition. However, it was disturbing how under his thumb the older man seemed to have his young cousin and she asked him if he was being abused in any way.

_He treats you like a servant. Does that not bother you?_

The young man silently shook his head and replied,

_He protects me. I was attacked by an enemy more than once. He was hurt the first time they attacked, and I had to care for him. The last time my enemy hired men to stab me. Nikola killed them. The least I can do is serve him in any way I can._

Helen was disturbed by the mention of enemies and killing. Apparently, it was more dangerous in Serbia than she thought. Curiosity about their relationship got the better of her and she asked,

_Are you in love with him?_

Petar smiled as he wrote,

_Yes. My heart is like a flower at the edge of the field that has been touched by the passing plough. I will never recover._

Helen smiled wistfully as she recognized the quote from one of the love poems of Catullus. The image of a cut flower alluded to the loss of virginity and innocence as well as suggesting the permanence of his feeling. No doubt the sentiment ‘stern as death is love’ would capture the seriousness of his commitment to the mad Serb. It was disquieting to think that her Nikola, jaded and cynical, had been the first love of this young man, who was to her ancient eyes, so nearly a boy. Was this romance an attempt by the older man to escape his past and reinvent himself as a better person in the eyes of someone so young and inexperienced? If so, the fact that his past was catching up with him was almost tragic, if deserved.

The young man took back the paper and wrote extensively,

_I have done my best to convince Nikola not to work for Moscovia on their sonitu velocior missilium. He may accept their offer because they have his blood and can make him immortal. I do not want to go but I will go if I must. I asked him to surrender to the Civitates Foederatae Americae, but he desires power and immortality more. Is there anything you can do? Can you convince him to surrender?_

Helen translated the Latin neologisms quickly, Moscovia was medieval Latin for Russia, faster than sound missiles, the United States of America. She briefly thanked the powers that be for Petar’s Latin ability. Nikola would have never told her what his real plans were. The Russians offering him his fondest desire in exchange for an advantage in the nuclear arms race? It was a nightmare scenario. No wonder Petar was desperate to communicate with her. Was there anything she could do? She sat there in silent thought for a few minutes, then reached for the pen and paper.

_If he were willing to trust me, I could represent him during the trial and negotiate a settlement. In exchange, I promise to find a sponsor for you. They will help you settle in America, find work et cetera. The process to make him immortal is very dangerous. Did he tell you he could die?_

Petar read her reply and looked into her eyes. The icy blue eyes bored into hers intensely. He shook his head solemnly and wrote,

_Is there anything else you can offer? Anything at all? I am willing to endure anything to save his life._

Helen wondered briefly if he was offering to share Nikola with her but dismissed the idea as unlikely. The boy was obviously a romantic. _‘No, it must be a genuine question...He thinks the deal is not sweet enough. What could I offer that could persuade him?’_ A strange thought appeared in her mind. At first, she dismissed it as irrelevant, but she really couldn’t think of anything else. Picking up the pen she wrote hesitantly,

_He wanted children. He was willing to give up on immortality if I could give him children. It might be possible, but it would take years of work to make him fertile. I was not willing to devote years of my life to that, but you should be fertile. Would descendants of yours be good enough for him?_

Petar read the sentences carefully while Helen squirmed with embarrassment. Basically, she was offering to reproduce with a young man she didn’t really know. He quickly penned a reply and shoved the paper back at her, refusing to look up at her.

_Would you carry the child and give it to us for adoption or would you want to be a mother?_

Helen sighed with relief at the obvious preference the young man revealed with his negative body language. Her reply was met with a palpable sense of relaxation.

_I am willing to carry and bear the child, but I do not want to be a mother._

The masculine young man smiled brightly at her and held out his hand across the table. The sparkle in his eyes reminded her so much of Nikola when he was young that she couldn’t help but grin back. Shaking his large hand, she committed herself. Now it was up to Nikola to decide if the deal they were offering him was good enough.

…

“What?! You and her!? What the hell did she say to you?!” Nikola yelled at his young lover then glared at his former best friend and switched languages effortlessly. “What kind of twisted plot is this, Helen?” The tall brunette huffed with exasperation, “We made a deal. You give me Power of Attorney, I’ll dispose of your assets and pay off the government, call in some favors with my contacts there, and hopefully get you some kind of concessions in the kind of work they’ll make you do. To sweeten the deal, Petar asked me to act as a surrogate so that your bloodline can continue and maybe you could let go of your obsession with defying death. All you have to do is make the call and arrange a time and place to surrender yourself to their custody.”

After the tall inventor stood there shocked for several moments, she prompted, “Well, is that good enough for you?” After pausing for thought, he nodded in agreement then muttered in Serbian, “Petar, it’s ten thirty. We need to get you down to the park for the competition.” The young man raised a brow then replied, “Really? Um, okay. I’m ready to go right now.” He grabbed his gym bag and headed for the door, his lover on his heels. Helen trailed afterward, bemused by their actions. “What did you say to him? Why are we leaving?” she asked rapidly. Nikola waved her off and replied, “He competes at eleven fifteen. I agree to your terms, but we’ve been working toward today for almost a full year. It’s important to him and to me. Hurry up and give me your phone. Just dial the authorities and I’ll tell them to come pick me up after the competition is over this afternoon...” Helen smiled at her friend’s mercurial mind then dialed the number.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! I thought you guys would like to finish the story to make up for how we have to give up visiting family this year. Happy reading!

They caught a cab to the park so that Petar would have a little time to warm up with some stretches and light weights. He took off his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. The physique he’d attained over the course of years was the best it had ever looked. Big, but not bulky. Shredded but still strong. “Petar Marković?” He swallowed nervously, then turned and blanked out all emotion from his face. “Yes?” The skinny teenager smiled at him tightly, “You’re up!”

The music he selected started playing as he walked out onto the stage. Nikola had tried to convince him to use some Turbo Folk thing with accordion but ended up liking Petar’s choice, an instrumental trap piece called ‘Worries.’ He even called it “appropriately epic,” much to the young athlete’s amusement. His first move was simple, a fall forward to the mat to do several explosive pushups. Nikola thought it was good to get started with a bang. The ones he chose were just variations on the pushup to clap, in front, behind, under each leg. They weren’t even the max he could do, but they looked difficult and were good to warm up with. From there he stepped up to a handstand that he carefully turned into the one-armed straddle version. Applause was encouraging. It was a reasonably hard move to pull off.

Bringing his free hand back to the ground he casually rolled out of the handstand and went to the P-bars. Time for Nikola’s favorite move. He hopped up slightly, grabbing the parallel bars, did a slight dip forward and lifted his legs through a pike to the handstand. He did it slowly, making it look a bit more impressive than he felt it really was. It was nowhere near as difficult as many other things he could do on this apparatus, but it would be best to save his effort for later. Very slowly he lowered himself from the handstand to a perfect planche. Now that was hard. Everyone in the crowd recognized the advanced nature of the move and clapped. Looking over at the crowd playfully, he smiled and did a half a dozen planche pushups, provoking a few screams of excitement from the crowd.

…

“I can see he’s your relative. They really love the showboating.” Helen commented, then turned to watch her best friend as he chortled with delight. “He’s phenomenal! I know he’s going to win!” She hadn’t seen the ex-vampire look so happy in... ‘ _God, it’s been years and years now. Maybe this relationship really is good for him.’_ A youthful sparkle in his eyes wiped away the hardness of his gaze, making him look not much older than his cousin. The entranced Serb looked at her briefly with a smile, “Isn’t he wonderful?” Turning his excited gaze back to the stage, he murmured, “Oh, wow...he must be feeling good today. He’s going to finish with the Tkatchev.”

Helen turned back to the stage and gasped with fear as the young man swung from the horizontal bar, arched his body and let go near the top of his swing, then straddled his legs and bent at the waist while flying backward over the bar. The crowd tensed in anticipation then cheered when he caught the bar and swung back under. “He really is a gymnast...” she whispered, amazed by the young man’s skill. Nikola tsked, “Of course he is. He was the best at his high school. Who knows what he could really do, with the right support.” Helen nodded slowly, “Of course. You’re right, he is wonderful.”

...

The Tkatchev gave him the trophy easily. No one else at the competition had the skills to do such a dangerous and intimidating move, flying blind over three meters high through the air, with nothing but the modest padding of the mat providing the bare modicum of safety. Petar remembered the many hours of terror, learning to throw himself backwards over the bar above the foam pit, only to miss the catch over and over. It had taken him over a year of failures to get the move. Many of his teammates never did or had it for a while until a growth spurt made them too tall to do it anymore. Lazar had been one of the boys cut from the team for that reason.

Petar studiously avoided looking at his enemy as the judges handed him his prize, having eyes only for Nikola. The look of admiration on his lover’s face made him feel so proud. All the effort had been worth it, not for revenge on an enemy, or for the prize money, or even for his own ego to know he was the best. What made it worth it was the chance to make just one beloved person happy. That was real joy. That was the greatest victory. His magnanimity was not to last however, as a mic was placed in his hand by the same skinny teenager from backstage. The awkward youth asked him to say something to the crowd, thank people or whatever.

Waiting for the noise to die down, Petar spoke, “Thank you for the opportunity to compete and for this generous prize. I hope you enjoyed watching me and all the other competitors. I just want to thank two people. First, thank you Nikola for supporting me and my training, financially and otherwise. I couldn’t have won without you, and...you’re the best and I love you. Second, thanks Lazar for being such an asshole, trying to keep me from competing just because you can’t stand being beaten by your gay former best friend. You tried to destroy me, but I’m still here, and I’m better than you because of it.”

Having finally said his piece to the guy who betrayed him what seemed like a lifetime ago, Petar handed the mic to the frozen teen and held his trophy in the air. Half the crowd cheered loudly, and the other half clapped politely or muttered amongst themselves, surprised to learn their champion was gay. Jumping down from the stage, Petar pushed his way through the crowd, shaking as few hands as he could get away with, making his way to his lover and his lover’s friend. Once he was within earshot he said loudly, “Let’s get out of here!”

…

Nikola led them to a _kafana_ and promptly ordered a huge meal and a bottle of _rakija. “_ Nikola, what about the feds?” He waved Helen’s question away while pouring the three of them a round. “I told them to come here in an hour. They said they’ll send in two agents who will escort me to their car, then handcuff me there to leave me some dignity. I intend to have a good meal and be very drunk by the time they get here. Meanwhile, don’t you have some paperwork for me to sign?” Helen sighed and picked up her glass. “Why am I not surprised...” She looked the two men in the eyes and said, “Here’s to you two, _živeli!_ ” and drank the plum brandy like a pro.

Nikola grinned at Petar and emptied his glass and held it out for more. “Come on! I have to party hard enough to last for the next several years! Who knows how long I’ll be stuck working for Uncle Sam!” The young man picked up the bottle and laughed. He poured Nikola another drink and shook his head, “Alright, just this once though. Then you’re right back on your diet. No alcohol, no sweets, nothing fried. I can’t have you looking all flabby like you did before.” Helen shook her head, not knowing what they said, but getting the gist of it nevertheless. Maybe this young man could stand up to the force of nature that was Nikola Tesla after all.

…

After the agents came in and escorted the absolutely blitzed Serbian genius out of the restaurant, Helen pulled out a pen and wrote on a napkin.

_Petar, I will contact you in a few weeks about going to America. In the meantime, has Nikola paid for your housing for the next month?_

The young man nodded, writing a reply.

_Yes, he paid everything for the next two months and left me some money for food. I will be fine._

Helen was glad that Nikola was finally learning to be responsible for someone besides himself. Gently patting the young man on the back of his hand she got to her feet carefully.

“ _Vale.”_ She said in classical Latin as she took her leave.

Petar got to his feet and said seriously, “ _Tibi gratias ago pro me servando. Vale.”_

Helen was touched by the young man’s gratitude and nodded in acknowledgment, then took her leave.

…

The flight back to D.C. was uneventful. Once she touched the ground, she immediately got out her phone and made a very important call. “Hello, this is Magnus. Please put Mr. Musk on the phone as soon as possible. I have an offer that he really won’t want to pass on.” She waited on hold for several minutes as she walked through the gates toward the car rental agency. “Ah, hello Elon, I’m fine and you? Yes, yes, I didn’t call to waste your time. How would you like Nikola Tesla to work with you at Space X?” She laughed at hearing a grown man nearly squeal with delight then replied, “Yes, _the_ Nikola Tesla. Right now, your competition is the Pentagon. They want him for their neutral particle beam weapon-” “Uh-huh, the so-called death ray. He’s not very enthusiastic.” “Wow, he’d be absolutely salivating to work on that. All you have to do is push for it. I’ll do the rest.” “Thanks Elon. I really appreciate that, and I’m sure Nikola will too.” “Yes, you can call him Nikola! Don’t worry, he doesn’t care.” “Alright, I’ll be expecting a call from you. Bye.” She quickly rented a sporty little Audi, then got back on the phone as she drove away. “Hello, Mr. President?”

…

Petar rolled his suitcase down the strange tunnel leading from the plane to the terminal. His first trip on a plane had encountered a bit of turbulence and he wasn’t looking forward to ever experiencing the horrible falling sensation again. Despite being used to the sensation of flying through the air under his own power, being inside a metal tube controlled by someone else was a completely different matter. He stepped out into the terminal and walked through the milling crowds of people in loud suits, Hawaiian shirts, ratty T-shirts and board shorts. At least his athletic wear didn’t stand out much here.

“Petar! Over here!” A high tenor voice shouted at him from the right. He looked over and smiled at the sight of his lover, dressed in a gorgeous white linen suit with a matching hat. “What’s this? You look like a black and white movie star.” The older man laughed and surprised him with a hug and a peck on the lips. “You look sexy as usual _dragi._ Maybe you’ll want to take off your jacket when we get outside though. It feels like a steam room out there.” Petar smiled shyly as his lover took him by the hand and led him through the airport. No one was staring or giving them dirty looks. No one even cared. A weight he never knew he was carrying seemed to lift off the young man’s shoulders and he walked a little bit taller.

“I was surprised when the tickets arrived for Orlando. I thought you would be in Washington.” The young man wondered what Nikola was up to, looking so sharp, casually walking about like a free man, rather than the convicted felon that he was. “Oh, Helen pulled some strings and got me a cushy job at Cape Canaveral. You’ll never guess what they have me working on there...” A self-satisfied little smirk appeared under his twinkling eyes. They looked different as the bright sunlight hit them when they left the airport, becoming so light they looked almost like ice. “Ah! It’s so bright here!” the older man complained and pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his inside pocket. The young man followed his lover into the parking structure enjoying the slight relief of being in the shade. He unzipped his hoodie and tied it around his waist. “What are you working on? I guess it’s not that weapon they wanted, is it?”

Nikola chuckled mysteriously and stopped behind a small, two-seater sports car with its top down. “What do you think? Pretty good for my namesake, right?” Petar spelled out the make of the silvery little car and whispered urgently, “ _Jebem ti život._ Did you steal this? The Tesla Roadster costs two hundred thousand dollars! You’re insane!” The slender Serb cackled maniacally. “Oh my god, your face!” The muscular youth shook his head sadly, wondering why his lover couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble. “Are you a kleptomaniac? Maybe you should get professional help...” Nikola practically collapsed laughing, leaning on the driver’s side door. He took his sunglasses off momentarily to wipe the tears from his eyes and then smiled at the morose young man brightly. “Who makes Tesla cars?” Petar sighed and decided he had no choice but to play Nikola’s game, “Elon Musk.” The older man chuckled, “Guess who is my new boss...”

The Serbian youth raised a brow, “You’re working for Tesla Motors?” “No, don’t be dumb! Helen’s got me working for Space X! Why the hell do you think we have to go drive an hour to Cape Canaveral right now?” The older man smirked and opened the little convertible. “Go on, get in. Elon gave it to me as a reward for figuring out how to power this satellite he wants to put in orbit around Mars.” Petar got in, amazed by the development. “Seriously? You’re working on going to space?” Nikola started the car silently, with the push of a button, then backed out of the parking space.

“Sort of. I’m working on terraforming the red planet in order to colonize space. You see, Mars has one little problem when it comes to living there. Due to the planet’s solid core, it lacks an adequate magnetosphere, that is, a magnetic field that repels deadly solar radiation and allows for an atmosphere and consequently liquid water on the surface. Without a magnetosphere, anyone that colonizes Mars will die of cancer after living there for long enough. So, we’re going to make an enormous copper solenoid that will orbit the planet and create an artificial magnetic field of approximately 81 Teslas, twice as powerful as the strongest artificial magnetic field ever generated!”

Petar just smiled, took the scientist’s hand in his own and kissed the back of it. “That’s wonderful. I’m just happy you’re doing good work and I’m so glad to be with you again. Do you think you will have time to make love tonight?” Nikola grinned wickedly at him as they sped down the highway. “Make love? We’re going to break the bed tonight and every night from now on.”

…

The End

…

…

Epilogue:

Petar held one tiny person in his arms, while Nikola stared with consternation at the little bundle in his. “They’re so small. And two of them. It was a shock when Helen told us after the ultrasound, but now actually seeing them... How are we going to raise a boy and a girl?” The astronautical engineer muttered, looking very much out of his depth. The young gymnast smiled. “It won’t be so hard. You had a younger sister, didn’t you?” Nikola nodded absently, gently stroking his little girl’s cheek. She was so soft; it didn’t seem real. “Marica. Can we name this little one after her?” Petar hummed in the affirmative, “Mm, sure. And this little man, what shall we call him?” The older man looked at the boy’s blue eyes and asked his husband, “Do you have a request?” The twenty-one-year old shook his head. After a moment of thought, Nikola said, “Dane, for my brother. Then they will be the names of siblings again.” Petar smiled and gently kissed his husband. “That’s beautiful. Dane and Marica, brother and sister.”


End file.
